Tales from the Souls Universe
by andrhats
Summary: A collection of one-shots and AUs set in the universe of the Souls trilogy. Will be updated frequently-ish. Ever wonder what happened to certain characters, or how much would change if even *one* death was avoided? Find out here!
1. Sheik Watches

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

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**Explanation:**

**In the course of the five years it took to write the three Souls stories, a great number of potential ideas for one-shots and AUs have piled up in my mind. Rather than clutter up my profile with all these, I have decided to create this collection, where each chapter is a new one-shot or longer story. These stories all take place in the Souls universe, or alternates of it. It is basically a way for me to explore the universe further and see what would happen if certain events did or did not take place, and what happened to certain characters after their respective parts in the stories were over. Hopefully, they will prove interesting.**

**IMPORTANT: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE TRILOGY (SOUL MATES, SOUL REMNANTS, AND SOUL SECRETS), THEN NONE OF THESE STORIES OR CHARACTERS WILL MAKE ANY KIND OF SENSE. PLEASE READ THOSE BEFORE TACKLING THIS COLLECTION!**

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**Sheik Watches**

* * *

Sheik watches.

It's his purpose in life. Watch, analyse, report, and act. From the moment he could walk and talk, he had been trained to do so. Serve the throne, serve the princess, serve Hyrule. He does it without question, without doubt, and he is proud of it. He follows in his ancestors' footsteps, and though he is the last Sheikah to bear the name, and will likely be the last one to walk upon this earth, he does not flinch in the face of duty, even when it involves mortal peril.

For he always watches, and analyses. It is the key to everything. Watch for long enough, and all answers will become apparent. The solution to every riddle will offer itself, if only you let it stew long enough in your head, and your eyes continue to follow. Sheik had lost count of many mysteries had been solved, how many murders had been investigated, using this method. Impa had never hesitated to tell him just how important this quality was.

It was the way he had always done things.

But the Hero of Time could not be analysed. His being was simply...incompatible with this sort of observation. Every attempt at discerning his thoughts, his motives, and even his actions through sheer sight alone, was impossible. His eyes did not flicker back and forth, like everyone else's. His body did not make the telling little movements that revealed so much about a person and their mental state. His words were guarded and vague, never letting on more than exactly what he wanted everyone else to know. It was out of fear of changing too much, he claimed. He only knew how to prevent the disasters he already been through-not the ones he would unwittingly set off if he gave away too much.

His motives...why was he doing this? With the power to manipulate time, surely he could see every possibility, every permutation of a single action? With that sort of power, why be so careful? Why keep undoubtedly valuable information from the princess and, indeed, Sheik?

* * *

Sheik watches the Hero's every move, hoping to understand the mysterious boy who claimed to have already witnessed the end of this war, and the start of two others, one of which had left the world a ruin. The other had ended in a crushing defeat, and the deaths of every person precious to him. Is he so paranoid to lose them a second time that he will not get close to _anyone_, this time around?

* * *

Sheik watches the Hero's every move, hoping to understand why his alternate self, the one who had surely perished along with everyone else, had seen fit to supply the Hero with his mother's name, one of the greatest secrets he had. Clearly, _that_ Sheik had not been convinced that he would take anything the Hero said seriously, and gave him a word _this_ Sheik would recognise. But why _that_ name? Surely there were so many other things _that_ Sheik could have offered?

* * *

Sheik watches the Hero's every move, hoping to understand why his thoughts invariably revolve around the Hylian, even when he is acting on the princess' orders, whether it is sabotaging Ganondorf's men's equipment or assassinating his officers. Sheik wonders why even the slightest smile directed at him from the green-clad Hero makes him feel satisfied and excited. Sheik wonders why, whenever they are alone, the Hero only offers him sad smiles, his voice wistful and longing when speaking of his past...or future, as the case may be.

* * *

Sheik wonders why the Hero of Time, after another long meeting with the princess, requests a companion to take on his journeys across Hyrule, and specifically asks for him. Zelda agrees, but is hesitant. She, too, is wary about the Hero of Time's extensive knowledge of the future to come. Undoubtedly, he is on their side...but he seems detached from the situation, as if he is simply watching and acting with the bare minimum of effort. It is as if he wishes he was a simple observer, rather than an actor.

* * *

Sheik watches the Hero as he shares intimate moments with two dear friends from his past. The Sages of the Forest and Fire temples are happy to see him again, but they too realise that he is far from the boy he once was. There is something much older behind those impossibly blue eyes. So much sadness...

* * *

The nights on the road are long and cold, but the companionship makes it all bearable. Used to travelling alone, Sheik finds himself...enjoying it. Caught in a rainstorm, they are forced to cling to each other to share body heat, lest they both freeze to death. Uncomfortable, but necessary and all for a good cause. The princess _did_ order him to offer any assistance he could, after all. Sheik doesn't understand why this makes his heart beat faster than usual, nor why his face heats up as much as it does. All he knows is that he enjoys the reverberations of the Hero's chuckles passing through him. The morning after is awkward, and they push on.

* * *

Sheik is annoyed when, upon reaching the Water Temple, the Hero tells him to wait outside. He claims that the risk of drowning is too great, that only _he_ should expose himself to that danger. Sheik does not accept the explanation, and wonders why Navi the Fairy is allowed to accompany him-surely she _too_ is at risk of drowning? He obeys, however, and remains outside the temple, loitering on the small island in the very middle of Lake Hylia. After all, the Hero is his commander...for now.

And Sheik serves.

The Hero's gruff tone upon entering the temple is the opposite of the relief in his voice upon returning from the Sacred Realm. He gives both Sheik and Navi happy looks, as if he has accomplished something of great value.

And why wouldn't he? He has awakened yet another Sage. Four down, two to go.

* * *

Sheik doesn't understand the Hero's smiles. And there are many.

The self-satisfied smirk he gives when the creature from the well in Kakariko Village attacks them, and they easily beat it back. Upon being questioned, the Hero reveals that the same event went quite differently the last time. He reveals no details, leaving Sheik confounded at the amount of details being withheld from him. Upon noticing his expression, the Hero's grin grows wider, and he laughs, as if he was remembering some sort of joke.

The cold, calculating grin he gives to his enemies. The sheer intensity of his stare, coupled with that smirk, reminds Sheik of a wolf-one that knows it is in complete and utter control of the situation, that the prey is absolutely helpless. He always proves Sheik right.

The genuine, eye-reaching beam whenever he sees someone he knew in the past-future. They do not know him, but the simple knowledge that they are there is enough to make the Hero happy, and, strangely enough, Sheik as well.

And finally, the secret ones. The ones he gives Sheik whenever he thinks he is being surreptitious. Sheik sees them all. They are, without a doubt, the warmest Sheik has seen him give.

They make Sheik's chest feel warm.

* * *

The Hero insists on Sheik using his name instead of his title when talking to him. Sheik refuses. It is unseemly for one such as he to refer to the great Hero of Time with any familiarity, despite what happened in the future-past. The Hero refuses to see reason, however, and continues his badgering. When Sheik finally caves, they are standing outside the Shadow Temple, the final resting place and gravesite to his people.

Again, as if he is enjoying some sort of joke, the He-Link laughs.

"This is where you stopped resisting saying my name the first time," is all he says, and walks inside the Temple, leaving Sheik to wonder just how parallel their journey was running to the previous one.

* * *

Their trek through the desert is gruelling and warm. Many times, they fear they are about to die of dehydration, but luck has them finding conveniently placed sources of water just as the thirst becomes unbearable. Of course, Sheik has to remind himself every time they find one. Of course the Her-Link would know where the water would be found.

* * *

The nights are cold, and though the two are no longer strangers to sleeping close to each other to preserve heat, with Navi the Fairy curled up beneath Link's cap, Sheik feels...strange. Like he...belongs there, with the Hero of Time's arms unconsciously wrapping around him, mumbling in his sleep.

Sheik fears the implications.

Surely that was not it?

One night, upon reaching an area he clearly recognises, Link announces that they should make camp early. Sheik complies, trusting the Hero to lead them correctly on the path. They spend the evening gazing into the fire...though Sheik knows that Link is really watching _him_. It makes Sheik's heart flutter, and his face heat up in a blush. He gives Link a questioning look, but receives only a shrug in reply.

"Just remembering something," Link says.

Sheik asks what.

"Something that made me very happy," Link replied cryptically.

He yawns, says it is getting late, and that they should get some rest. The next few days were going to be eventful, he claims.

The entire night, Sheik wonders just what made Link so happy...

* * *

Sheik is utterly perplexed when Link, upon realising they are being ambushed by a group of Gerudo, begins to laugh. He has laughed in battle before, but in those cases the odds have always been on their side. Sheik sees no way out of this situation, which is why he nearly tackles Link to the ground when he simply walks forward and offers his hand to the leader of the group. Predictably, she knocks him out with the butt of her spear. Sheik tries to intervene, but suffers the same fate.

Bloody Hero...

* * *

Link and Ayla, the Gerudo warrior, get along famously, especially after Sheik defeats her in single combat. The revelation that Ganondorf abandoned his own people in favour of the dreaded Legions is a surprising one...and Sheik sees an opportunity to gain allies for the princess' cause. His ancestors would most likely frown upon his thoughts, but _they_ had never been in such a desperate situation before...and if anything, desperation makes for strange bedfellows. In a rare moment of fortune-telling clarity, Link reveals that the Gerudo's help will be instrumental in the coming battle.

* * *

The first kiss happens later that night.

Sheik is tired of watching and analysing something that clearly will not allow itself to be unravelled like a riddle. The Hero is Link. And Link is...strange, mysterious, frightening...and exciting.

The wine is a big factor in it, of course, but it is mostly his burning curiosity that leads Sheik to corner Link in their chambers, pin the Hero of Time against the wall with his superior reflexes and technique, yank down the mask covering his own face, and put his lips to Link's.

It is a clumsy kiss. Sheik's first. Their teeth knock together, their respective noses getting in the way. Sheik doesn't know how long a kiss should last, and even through the haze of wine his thoughts begin to race.

_Am I doing it right? Has it gone on for too long? Will he be offended? Have I misinterpreted his smiles? What if the relationship we shared in the future-past was simply platonic?_

When Link does not respond, Sheik knows he has done something wrong, and quickly breaks away, staring at the floor, the ceiling, their packs in the corner-at anything but Link. Surely there is no greater offense than forcing such unwanted attention upon one another?

Link clears his throat; beckons Sheik to look at him. Sheik does so hesitantly, preparing himself for whatever reprimands the Hero has in mind for him. The only thing he silently wishes, however, is for Link to not send him away.

Navi hovers above them, silent for what is probably the first time since they first arrived in the Temple of Time. She does not know how to react.

"Why did you do that?"

The Hero's question slices through every other thought in Sheik's head, and all he is left with is...

"Because I wanted to."

Link raises an eyebrow-an absolutely spot-on imitation of Sheik's own questioning tic, and asks, "Did you do it because of the wine?"

Sheik has not had _that_ much to drink, and he clearly recognises the difference between a spontaneous action borne out of alcoholic consumption, and one that has been carefully deliberated and planned, even if it was on a subconscious level. So he shakes his head, and says, "No, it simply made me brave enough."

The silence that falls over the room is unbearable. If the Hero reacts badly, Sheik is prepared to blame anything to explain the unwanted kiss. Anything to avoid being sent away.

"And how did it feel?" the Hero says, unrelenting in his interrogation.

And how did it feel? It was the only thing Sheik had ever been truly, one-hundred percent certain of.

"It felt...right."

Many years' worth of hardness built up in those blue eyes of his seem to melt as a brilliant, dazzling smile comes to the Hero's lips as he steps forward and envelops Sheik in a crushing hug-one of desperation, relief, want, and a million other emotions that leaves them both exhausted, clinging to each other to stay upright. Link draws back and rests his forehead against Sheik's, staring into his eyes, leaving Sheik feeling like he is drowning in an endless, bottomless ocean. The Hero of Time speaks.

"Thank the gods...I could not bear another day without telling you, or showing you..."

The veil obscuring a great part of the future-past is lifted, and Sheik understands the role he must have played in it. It was not strange, then, that Link knew his mother's name.

He wonders how Zelda will react to this...

* * *

Sheik watches.

And what he sees is promise.

* * *

**Obviously, this takes place after Link turns back time in Soul Secrets, and starts his journey anew. I thought it'd be fun to see how Sheik reacts to the "new" version of the Hero of Time...and really, all we see is that the boys really were inevitably going to be drawn to each other no matter what.**


	2. A New Princess

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

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**A New Princess**

* * *

As he woke up, Moran's head felt like it had grown ten sizes since last he'd checked, and with the sudden growth spurt came an equally large headache, throbbing and beating deep within his cranium. Groaning quietly, he tried to force his eyes open, but was forced to quickly close them again as the light from a solitary lantern proved to be too much stimuli. He was sitting in a hard chair, his hands tightly bound together behind his back, as were his feet. He tried opening his eyes again, and this time succeeded after allowing them to become accustomed to the surprisingly sharp light. He couldn't see all that well, but a dark shape just beyond the lantern was moving back and forth, seemingly fetching and setting up something from a pack on the floor.

Where the hell was he? He could see outside the immediate ring of light from the lantern, but judging by the echoing sounds from the figure it was a large room of sorts...perhaps even a warehouse? Surely not _the_ warehouse? If so, someone had sold him out, but who? Who else knew where he'd gone into hiding? Grunting, he focused his attention on the dark figure, wondering if it was one of his rivals, having finally grown tired of his attempts to make something of himself. The other option was too ridiculous to even consider—it would take a whole lot of coincidences for _that_ to be the case.

So, since the figure was a rival, this would be quite easy. Moran knew how to talk his way out of a situation...or, _attempting_ to talk and then foregoing the whole thing and simply knocking out whoever was hassling him. He'd try bribery first, though, since that was a far more effective tool. He cleared his throat, staring at the figure, which did not even flinch at the loud, sudden sound. Confused at the lack of reaction, Moran cleared his throat again, and again, and again...

"I know you're awake, no need for theatrics," the figure, a man, spoke suddenly, sounding annoyed and impatient. "Kindly shut up. I'm still setting up my kit."

Moran frowned. That was not what he'd expected. Most people in his line of work tended to gloat whenever they had another in their grasp. This one simply seemed...workmanlike. As if this was something he did daily. So this was a minion, then? A boss would never let slip an opportunity to do a little swaggering about. Moran smiled. He could work with minions.

"Look, friend," he said, ignoring how raspy his voice was and how dry his mouth felt. "If this is about money, we can talk. Whatever they're payin' you, I'll pay double if you'll let me go." Moran had no intention of paying this piss ant, of course, but all he needed was one free hand...

"I'm fairly comfortable, thank you very much," the minion said, continuing his work. Moran couldn't see what it was he was setting up, but it looked like a complicated set of tools and mechanisms...possibly even some glassware? Certainly looked like a set you'd brew moonshine off of...

"Not interested in money, huh?" Moran continued, frowning. Who the hell wasn't interested in that?! "What would convince you to let me go, then?"

The minion paused, and turned to face Moran. A hood obscured his face, and he wore tight-fitting, nondescript leather armour beneath a thick, neutral tabard. That made Moran pause. Most organisations would have some sort of uniform, right? Something that would identify the members to one another? Of course, they could be the kind of people who preferred subtlety to flash, but...Moran had yet to meet one of those. The only thing that could possibly identify _this_ person was the short glimpse of long, blond hair that flashed underneath the hood.

"Almost done," the minion replied, ignoring Moran's question altogether.

"Who do you work for?" Moran said. "Surely I can speak with them, work out some sort of deal? I mean, there's gotta be something your boss wants from me."

"I don't have a boss," the minion replied, pausing. "Well, not as such, anyway. I'm certain _they_ would like that term. I am here, however, in my own capacity as a...freelancer, of sorts. As for who I work for...well, their identity will become apparent soon enough."

Moran was sweating now. It was all psychological torture, of course—any idiot could see that. The bastard was just so very good at pretending he was alone...

"At least tell me who _you_ are," Moran said. "You caught me, I deserve to know."

"I'm quite sure that is not a rule, written or un-written," the minion replied, fetching one last object from his pack and unfurling it on the small table behind him. "And I'm the sort of person who thrives on having his identity undiscovered. It's part of the reputation, as it were." Something metallic clicked together, and Moran saw a cruel-looking device in the man's hand. "Red sends his regards, by the way."

Moran _felt_ the blood drain from his face. His heart sped up, worsening his headache, and cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. It had to be a coincidence, right? It _couldn't_ be...! He clenched his jaw, trying to appear confident. "Yeah?" he asked. "What does that bastard have to say?"

"Not much," the hooded man said, turning to face Moran with a shrug. "Nothing coherent. The screams left quite an impression, though."

More blood drained from Moran's face. "You...you...?"

The hooded man retrieved a wrapped, bloody parcel from his pack, slowly unfurling it and showing its contents to Moran, who had to turn away. No wonder Red hadn't been able to speak coherently...

"I'm sure you've worked out who I am now," the hooded man said, re-wrapping the parcel and stowing it away.

Moran nodded, feeling nauseated. He'd thought it a coincidence when Sar had first disappeared, and then been found dead several days later in a rather...dreadful state. Then, one by one, his old gang had stopped showing up at the hideout. By the time Uman's headless corpse had been found in their larder, it was only Moran and Red left—and they decided to cut their losses and head separate ways, hoping to escape whatever curse had befallen the others. Moran had no idea where Red had gone, and was happy for it. Now, all he knew was that wherever he'd gone, it wasn't far enough...and neither had Moran, for that matter.

"Who are you?" Moran asked, growling. "What do you want from me?"

"Me?" the hooded man asked. "I don't want anything from you. It's my employers who _want_ something from you, just like they wanted something from Red, from Sar, from Uman...need I go on?"

"Who do you work for?!"

"They prefer to be nameless," the hooded man said. "Though I'm sure you can discern one group in particular whom you offended recently...it's a long list, certainly, but I'd say their anger, and subsequent hiring of me, is more than justified."

Moran knew he was out of options on this one. He knew now, more than well, who had hired this assassin...and why. He'd had his suspicions, but had dismissed the option outright because...well, they'd been a particularly poor set of villages, hadn't they? But they'd still hired the man standing over him now...and Moran was _terrified_.

"Please..." he tried, aware of how unsteady his voice had suddenly became, his stomach roiling with fear. "I have money...you don't have to do this..."

The assassin shook his head. "That's where you're wrong," he said. "I _have_ to do this, because this is what my contract specifies. My reputation depends on me fulfilling every single contract to the letter. And as for money...well, I know you're flat broke. The only reason you have a roof over your head if because you've threatened to kill the man who owns the inn. Bribery tends not to work very well if the one you're bribing knows these facts." He spoke with a singsong voice, as if attempting to lecture a child. "So...I would prefer it if you stopped thinking I'm going to let you go."

He motioned around them, to the empty, echoing room. "I've told everyone what you've done and why I'm here, and they offered me this workspace. Even if you somehow escape, you'll never leave this town alive. But you don't have to worry about that, because there is not a single scenario, not a single version of this situation in which you leave this room alive."

It was all too much for Moran, and he felt the bile at the back of his throat before he messily threw up all over himself. The assassin stepped back, clearly disgusted.

"Please..." Moran begged as he finished, aware of how pathetic he looked but unable to bear the idea that he was going to _die_ now. "Please don't..."

"And why shouldn't I?" the assassin asked. "Give me one good reason for why I should let you go."

"Because I don't want to die!" Moran wailed, tears pouring down his cheeks and snot gushing from his nostrils.

"You should have thought about that before you got into slave trading, then," the assassin said with no sympathy in his voice whatsoever. Before, he had sounded somewhat regretful of his assignment, but now his words were coated in ice. "You should have thought twice about attacking that village, thought twice about selling their women and children. You should have reconsidered when cutting out their tongues so they wouldn't complain. Oh, they were _lucky_, weren't they, if they didn't go to some godsforsaken mine somewhere, but to the houses of...well, negotiable pleasure? But in their case, it's not negotiable, is it, nor pleasure?" The assassin spat on the floor.

Moran had no words, only blubbering whenever he tried to say something in his defence.

"But it doesn't matter," the assassin said, crossing his arms. "They are never coming back...but you are. In pieces." He went to the table and picked up a pair of heavy pliers. "I believe I will start with your teeth, then your fingers, then toes...the grieving husbands and fathers all want a little keepsake of you...but I fear there won't be enough to go around. I will figure something out, though, so do not worry on _that_ account. Now, open wide..."

* * *

He supposed it came with the job, but Kafei did not enjoy the thrill he'd gotten out of killing Moran. It was a poor reflection upon the person he was now...but he decided to tell himself the thrill came from avenging the hundreds of innocents Moran had sold into slavery...and slight peace of mind he could now give what remained of their families. That's how it had to be.

He finished cleaning his hands and packed his equipment away, careful to leave the sack filled with Moran's keepsakes for last. He'd arrange to have it delivered by carriage—he'd rather not face those grieving faces again. They'd get half their money back, as well, since Kafei had barely used any of it for expenses. The rest...well, he had have _some_ black in his book, right?

He opened the warehouse door and, with one last look at the chair on which what remained of the slave trader sat, left. Upon being informed of what he needed the warehouse for, the owner had assured him that no evidence would crop up in the future. Kafei hoped he'd been truthful, though he'd made sure that nothing that could be tied to him had been left behind.

The town was busy—it was almost midnight, but the harvest festival showed no signs of ending, which was just as well—it made Kafei stick out less among the silly costumes and masks. Even the watchmen were joining in on the festivities, which made Kafei wonder how secure the place was...

...then again, didn't they deserve to let off some steam? This town in particular, so isolated up in the hills and valleys, had been hit particularly hard by the Cataclysm, and it was only recently they'd been able to start farming the land again. He was surprised that anything grew in this cold, but then he wasn't a farmer, was he?

He went to the post office straight away, thanking the gods that they were still open. A major lifeline, it was called, and Kafei agreed, especially in situations like this. He paid for the fastest possible delivery, wrote the recipients a quick letter to inform them that he had delivered on the contract. And that was that. Moran's teeth, toes, fingers, and...some other minor collectible memorabilia would be making their way up the mountains by dawn. He felt bad for the coach driver who would have to deal with the smell, but what other options did he have? Besides, he had unfinished business somewhere else.

He took the long way back to his inn; the very same one Moran had stayed in, actually, and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the festival, even partaking in some local delicacies. The fried pumpkin seeds in particular were quite appetising. They had some pretty impressive-looking strawberries that made him think of his cousin, but having them delivered would take far too long. Instead, he bought several and gave them to the gaggle of children that had, in their opinion, been stealthily following him for a while now. It was a mix of fear and excitement that filled their eyes when the scary, hooded man suddenly offered them the sweet berries and sent them off.

Kafei wanted to go home.

He went back to his inn, intending to collect the rest of his belongings and leave the town that very night—the fewer who saw him the better. However, upon entering the tavern part, he noticed the innkeeper giving him a strange look. The tavern was almost empty, most of its patrons still out and about on the town. There were only two other occupants apart from the innkeeper behind the counter. One seemed to be the local drunk, passed out in front of the fire. The other...the other looked like a traveller, dressed in innocuous clothing covered in the dust of the road...but his eyes were too sharp, a little too aware for someone who supposedly just wandered in to find shelter.

Walking up to the counter, Kafei plonked a pair of coins down on it. "Cider."

"That one's been asking for you," the innkeeper—thankfully aware of the importance of subtlety—said quietly as he made a lot of noise pouring Kafei his drink. "Don't like the look of 'im."

"Neither do I," Kafei agreed, slowly enjoying the beverage. "Play along, will you?"

"No blood in my tavern," was the sole condition.

"Agreed. I need my pack from upstairs."

"Right."

The innkeeper was quite an actor, able to look quite casual as he ascended the stairs under the pretence of waking up his wife because Kafei _unreasonably_ wanted something to eat. He stealthily deposited Kafei's pack by the door, while the supposed "traveller" was too busy observing the assassin by the counter.

"She said no," the innkeeper said, playing his part perfectly. "Cook your own damn food."

"Well, to hell with her, then," Kafei muttered, emptying his cider and plonking several more coins on the counter. "For the room. Thank you for the distraction. Good night."

"Good luck on the road."

Kafei's suspicion about the eagle-eyed traveller was confirmed when, as he opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air, he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

The traveller had stood up. Kafei cursed inwardly. It wasn't a coincidence, then. It was _them_ again.

Kafei closed the door behind him and immediately headed into the alley behind the inn, leaving his pack in the very middle of it before finding a crevice between two buildings to hide in, and listened. The inn was opened once more, and a single pair of footsteps emerged from within. The sounds of the festival in the distance echoed among the buildings, but Kafei could practically _hear_ the hesitation in his follower as he tried to see where Kafei had gone. He too settled on the alley, it seemed, and Kafei squeezed tighter into the crevice, his superior night vision allowing him to see perfectly, even in the dark.

Whoever this person was, his was not particular savvy. Upon spotting Kafei's pack in the middle of the alley, his reaction wasn't to assume a trap. No, he immediately went for it. Drawing a dagger, Kafei rushed out from his hiding spot and kicked the man viciously in the side of his head before hauling him up against the wall, resting the blade at his throat.

"Who are you?" Kafei hissed. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm not telling," the man hissed back, his eyes wild and unfocused. "Not telling anything!"

Kafei kneed him between his legs, eliciting a high-pitched whine from his captive. "Tell me now, or I'll kill you on this very spot!"

"You're dead, Sheikah," the man managed to force himself to say. "You and your Gerudo whore!"

They were the same words every single one had spoken so far. Kafei had no idea what sort of training they'd been through to resist divulging any information about their employer, but he found himself impressed every time. Until they threatened E, that is.

"Fine, join your friends, then," Kafei muttered and dragged the knife across the man's throat. Once the choking and twitching had stopped, Kafei lowered him to the ground and rifled through his pockets, finding nothing but a pouch of gold (which he pocketed as recompense for being followed) and another scrap of paper with that strange symbol on it. It looked like a stylised image of the sun, but he did not recognise it from anywhere.

This was the tenth time he'd encountered one of them. The organisation was quite keen on catching them, it seemed. Sighing, he stood up, shouldered his pack, and headed for the stables. E wouldn't be happy about this.

It meant they had to move again.

* * *

A week later, late at night and halfway up a steep mountain path that was quite out of the way of normal traffic, he spotted the cottage, with its warm, glowing windows. A wide smile came to his face underneath his hood. He finally risked lowering it, allowing his blond tresses to come free. It was how they recognised each other, now. Sometimes he missed the purple dye, but E kept smacking him when he suggested going back to it.

_Why does the Hero get a gorgeous blonde if I don't?_

Not the best argument in the world, but not one he desired to challenge. Perhaps he could convince Sheik to start dying _his_ hair...

He shook his head and started back on the path, feeling a little sad knowing they would have to leave it behind. They'd only lived in it for a few months, but it had quickly become home...and Kafei was getting tired of leaving his home. Climbing over the ragged fence, he began climbing the misaligned stone steps up to the cottage itself, but only got two steps up before the door burst open, spilling light into the darkness. A decidedly feminine shape stood in the doorway, their foot tapping impatiently on the floor, and Kafei could do little but sheepishly climb the remaining steps and stand demurely in front of them.

"You're late," the figure barked.

"I know," Kafei said, lowering his head. "I'm sorry, I had to—"

"I had supper ready. Two days ago."

"Listen, we—"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to cook with only one arm?"

_Bullshit_, Kafei thought. _You're as capable with one arm as you were with two...if not even more. And twice as scary. _ He decided to cut through the regular conversation they _always_ had upon his return. "We have to move."

Elenwe paused mid-breath and, after a moment of studying his face intently, grabbed his tabard and pulled him inside the cottage, shutting the door behind him. "They found us again?" she asked, lowering her voice while casting a glance to the closed door at the back of the living area.

"One of them was waiting at the inn," Kafei explained, depositing his pack on the floor and taking off his tabard. The armour followed next, with the bandages around his wrists and ankles. "Ambushed him in the alley. Wouldn't say anything, as usual. Finished him off, like I did with the others, and took the long way around to make sure no one else was following me. He carried this," he said, fishing out the paper with the sun-symbol on it. "Any luck with the research?"

"None of my contacts have any info on it," Elenwe said, studying the symbol with a frown on her face. "I think we may have to write your cousin a letter. If not for information, then at least to warn him."

"Warn him?" Kafei asked. "You think this might be about more than us?"

"No idea, but it never hurts to be on the safe side. Could be whoever's after us might try to through _him_," Elenwe said. "Besides, I'm sure he'd love to hear from you again. Might _finally_ get the big news?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Kafei said slowly, shaking his head.

"What, you don't want your last living blood relatives to know that you're not completely alone in the world anymore?"

"I don't want to take the risk. If the news get out, and someone horrible finds out they want to start collecting Sheikah...it's hardly Impa or the Earl of Hyrule they'll come for, is it?" He glanced at the door as well, sighing. "It's too dangerous...but I suppose I can write it in a cipher, or something...and hope he'll shut up about it."

"That's the spirit," Elenwe said with a grin, grabbing his chin and turning his head towards her. "Now, where was I? Oh, right...welcome home." She kissed him, making sure he understood how much he'd been missed while gone. "Have a seat—we'll deal with the moving part tomorrow."

Gratefully, Kafei sank into the rickety chair by the kitchen table, looking around the tiny cottage and wondering if perhaps it _might_ be a good idea to move after all. He had no idea how this place would handle the mountain winter, after all, and he was hardly handy with tools that weren't the type that caused death and pain. Shaking his head, he smiled gratefully as Elenwe placed a steaming cup of tea in his hands.

"How is she?" he asked, sipping at the warming liquid.

"She hates mathematics," Elenwe said, a fond smile on her lips. "I tried giving her a problem that was _slightly_ more advanced than she's used to, and she blew up at me."

"Well, what do you expect?" Kafei said, grinning.

"Are you implying something?"

_Why do I keep forgetting about that temper?_ he asked himself, shaking his head. "Not at all."

"Right...anyway, she's fine. Misses you a lot."

"At least I'll be around for a while now," he said. He heard an unmistakeable sound from behind the door, and rolled his eyes. "But now," he said loudly, noticing Elenwe's look of amusement, "it is time to root out little spies who _should_ be in their beds!"

The door burst open, and a red-haired blur shot into the room and headed straight for Kafei, who bent down and received the ballistic missile with open arms, lifting it up and spinning it around as childish giggles filled the cottage.

"Daddy's back!" the little girl announced loudly, her arms wrapping tightly around Kafei's neck, her cheek rubbing against his. "He's back!"

"That's right," Kafei replied just as loudly, dislodging her grip on his neck so he could actually get a look at his daughter. "And I hear Thalia's not too happy about maths?"

From a distance, Thalia would be mistaken for any regular five-year-old Gerudo child, with her red hair and dark skin. Upon getting closer, however, one would see a few tell-tale signs that her parentage was unusual, even for a race that only produced a single male every generation. Hidden among her long, fiery red tresses were a few islands of golden hair the exact same colour as Kafei's, and her eyes...in place of the golden orbs found among the desert tribes were two crimson eyes so dark they almost looked like blood—a mirror to Kafei's own. When she'd opened her eyes for the first time, there really could not have been any doubt about whether he was the father or not...and he loved it.

He had no idea if Gerudo and Sheikah had interbred before he and Elenwe had taken the last step and ruined their friendship forever (but gaining something much better in return), but he was quite sure that Thalia was unique...no, he _knew_ she was.

Realising she wasn't about to let go of him anytime soon, Kafei carefully sat back down in his chair and deposited Thalia in his lap, smiling down at his daughter.

"Maths is boring, dad," she said, her face suddenly turning utterly serious. "Mom says it's important, but I don't agree."

"Oh?" Kafei exchanged an amused glance with Elenwe. "And what do _you_ think is important, then?"

"Throwing knives!"

He gave Elenwe a sour look. "You promised not to start her on that without me."

"She was begging me," Elenwe offered as an excuse. "Besides...learning how to throw properly is important, too."

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume that mom isn't too happy about maths either," Kafei said, winking at Thalia, who giggled. "But it _is_ important, so you'll have to stick with it, understand?"

"Yes, dad," Thalia replied, sounding none too happy about it.

"But," Kafei continued, "that is a problem for tomorrow. Right now, a certain Gerudo-Sheikah princess needs to go to bed." He picked her up and headed for the room that was Thalia's bedroom, ignoring the fake wailing she made underway.

"I don't want to go to bed! I'm not tired!"

"You have to, or the Evil Feror will come for you—he does that, you know. Scary guy."

That made her quiet, and Kafei smiled at Elenwe.

"I'll get started on that letter, shall I?" the Gerudo asked.

"Please do."

Tucking her in, Kafei smiled down at Thalia. How could he ever have panicked at the idea of having a daughter? Or a child at all, at that? He wondered if his parents would have approved—both of Elenwe and Thalia...and he had a feeling they would have. Or so he hoped, anyway. Perhaps, if he ever went back to Hyrule, he'd stop by the Shadow Temple and their mausoleum. Perhaps they would show themselves to him...

Thalia yawned, revealing her lack of fatigue to be a clever lie all along! He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good night, princess," he whispered. He made to leave, but a hand on his stopped him.

"Dad..." she said.

"Yes, princess?"

"Tell me a story."

_Every time_, he thought, grinning at his own foolishness for falling into her trap once again. "All right, which one?"

"You know which one!"

He laughed. "Very well, very well," he said, making himself comfortable on the side of her bed. "This is the story about the Hero of Time, and his brave companion, Sheik of the Sheikah..."

* * *

**Right, so this story takes place in the original Souls timeline, before Link turned back time. I had some people wondering where the hell Kafei and Elenwe were in all the nastiness Iari was unleashing on Hyrule...and, well, the answer is this. They were trying to survive and raise their daughter, evading Iari's goons all the while. They did manage to send the letter, trying to warn Sheik...but by this time, Iari had already entered Hyrule and the war had started. The letter never reached him. They only received the news of his death and Hyrule's destruction several months after it happened.**

**Anyway, seeing as I've been having a bit of an uninspired streak as of late, I was thinking of opening up for prompts from YOU (the readers!). If there's a particular character or scenario you're curious about, either before or after Link turned back time—let me know and I'll try to sate your curiosity with a one-shot! Just leave it in a review or send me a PM!**

**-Andy**


	3. Memories

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Memories**

* * *

Sleep was never easy. It hadn't been since he came back from that...potential future?

It was difficult to think of it in such terms. It had happened, but then it hadn't...but possibly it had anyway? The metaphysical discussions Princess Zelda insisted on engaging them in often left Link with a pounding headache, and Sheik confused. Zelda never made much headway in the great theorisation of it all either, but she never relented in her attempts to fully understand it, to their chagrin.

But in the end, what did it all matter? Link had left the ruined world behind and returned to one that was still vibrant and alive...and most important of all, with the knowledge required to keep it that way. There was much he did not tell, either out of fear that he would change too much to be able to accurately predict what would happen next, or because what he remembered was simply too painful.

He had lost so many friends...both before and after this "Cataclysm", as he called it. He refused to divulge the details of said catastrophe just yet, claiming that winning the war against Ganondorf had to remain their first priority—only then could they turn their attention elsewhere. Sheik was of a mind to agree with his lover (such a strange way to think of the great and prophesised Hero of Time, but now he could not imagine him as anything else)...

...but at night, when he woke to find their shared bedroll empty and cold, and heard the muffled sobs just outside their tent, he wondered if perhaps the Hero would benefit from easing his mind just a little...and tell them all that had happened, rather than carry all the pain on his own.

Link did not agree, and after a particularly loud argument Sheik had simply agreed to disagree, and not bring it up again.

But on those nights, which became more and more frequent, the Sheikah found himself unable to let things go...but out of a wish not to upset Link further, he did not go out to him. He did not attempt to comfort him, for it would simply lead to another argument. After all, what comfort could he offer when the Hero would not even reveal the reason for his sorrow?

Link seemed to agree with the arrangement. His smiles would always return in the morning...and as long as he remained dedicated to his quest, how could Sheik complain?

It still made him feel like a craven little shit.

Navi was of little help as well. Due to Link's reaction upon seeing her after returning to the Temple of Time, Sheik could only assume that she, too, had suffered in the future Link had abandoned...and as a result, the friendship they'd initially developed when Link was ten years old had become...not distant, as such, but...different. She could do little but try offering as much comfort as she could, alighting upon his shoulder and holding him at night.

All Sheik could offer, in the end, was a loving embrace when the Hero finally returned to bed and gratefully snuggled into Sheik's chest, apologising for getting his shirt wet. Sheik would tell him not to worry about such a stupid thing. And then they would fall asleep, not speaking of the night's events when dawn came.

Sheik hated it.

* * *

"You can tell me."

Link looked up abruptly, and Sheik was taken aback by the way his eyes sparkled with unshed tears in the moonlight. Those eyes looked wise in the day and when he discussed battle strategies...but all Sheik saw right then was a boy forced to take on a burden that was unjustly heavy. Then those impossibly blue orbs hardened, and an annoyed grimace crossed the Hero's face as he rose to his feet, brushing the dirt off his clothes and removing a piece of bark from the stump he'd been leaning against.

Navi said nothing. Her wings fluttered as she gently rose from Link's shoulder and floated into the tent, knowing when to leave them to it. Sheik almost wished she'd remain—if only to have a something resembling of a neutral voice in this.

"We've talked about this," Link said, his voice still shaky as he wiped his eyes dry, anger already building within him. His sojourn in the future...past...had not left him with the ability to cover up his feelings. "I don't _want_ to talk about it."

"I know," Sheik said, nodding and frowning behind his cowl. They were not with the Remnant army at the moment, instead camping in the woods around Lake Hylia in an attempt to catch a supposedly powerful wizard off-guard...but so far he had yet to make an appearance. "But I think you _need_ to."

Link chuckled humourlessly, crossing his arms and looking at anything but Sheik, focusing on a particularly interesting-looking pine tree...or so Sheik assumed, at least. "I don't _need_ to do anything," he said. "_You_ need to go to bed. Gonna need your wits about you when we face Vorpheus."

"You never properly explained his level of power for me," Sheik said, playing along with Link's attempt at changing the subject. "And you know I don't require much sleep."

"You did before," Link muttered.

Sheik held his own temper in check. For some reason, every time Link mentioned his future self, Sheik felt annoyance creeping up on him. It was completely illogical, of course—his future self _was_ him. Why would he be angry with himself? And yet, he was, because his future self had experienced so much with Link, shared so many adventures...what did _he_ have to offer, other than a rigid sense of duty (metaphorically explained as a giant stick up his posterior, as Link liked to say) and a boyish idea of love?

And, honestly, how far had he let himself go in order to require _that_ much sleep, anyway?

"Nevertheless, I don't need it as much as _you_ need it," Sheik continued. "Especially not since this has become a nightly...occurrence." He motioned around them, careful not to provoke the Hero too much. "_You're_ the one who defeated this Vorpheus the last time—what good will _I_ be if you pass out from exhaustion?"

"Tch." Link shook his head, unable to come up with an argument, but sticking to his case anyway.

"I'm just trying to help."

"You're failing."

Sheik sighed, nodding. "I am, aren't I? Miserably so. I suppose the..._other_ me would know exactly how to get you to open up, but...I'm not him, am I?"

Link's eyes widened, his mouth falling open.

"Now, before you say anything," Sheik said hurriedly, opening his arms in a peaceful gesture, "I am not trying to make this about me. I just wish there was something I could do to make you more comfortable. To make you...not afraid." He gently placed a hand on Link's cheek, pulling down his cowl with his other. "Because that is what bothers you, is it not? The fear of the future you left behind...fear that it could happen again, no matter how well you prepare us now?"

Link didn't turn away—instead he practically leaned _into_ Sheik's hand. But his frown remained, and his mood did not seem to change. "There's so _much_," he finally admitted, voice cracking slightly, forcing him to clear his throat. "So much that could go wrong, you cannot even imagine. I'm trying to keep it all balanced, but all I can remember and think about is...is..."

"Our deaths?" Sheik offered gently, slowly stepping closer until he was looking slightly upwards to meet Link's eyes. The sapphires kept flicking away, struggling to maintain eye contact.

It was a logical conclusion, wasn't it? Why else would he be so hesitant to speak of the future in specific terms, if not to hide that those closest to him did not make it out alive? Sheik tried not to give it much thought, but the subject was mortifying and fascinating at the same time.

From the way Link's breath caught in his throat, Sheik knew he'd hit his mark. It did not bring the sense of triumph he usually experienced when engaged in verbal duels...not that this was a duel. It was more a slow torture of the person he claimed to love, and telling himself it was only _because_ of that love that he was doing it...and that suddenly had him wondering if that was how tyrants began their reigns...

"How many died?" Sheik asked, realising that Link was not about to speak just yet. "And...how?"

"Don't," the Hero said, his eyes closed as his arms encircled Sheik, drawing him close. "Just...don't. You don't want to know."

"If speaking of it helps _you_, then I do," Sheik said firmly, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "A Hero of you may be...but even they cannot bear it all alone."

"You will hate me," Link said.

"I cannot imagine how," Sheik replied, giving Link his most defiant look. "And you know me—I do not hate without good reason."

The Hero could not contain the snort. "If only you knew," he said mysteriously.

"Stop trying to change the subject," Sheik said firmly. "We can either have the same argument we've had a hundred times at this point, or you can finally share your burden with me...and Navi, even, if she desires to help."

"I do!" the fairy in question shouted from within the tent.

"See?" Sheik said, smiling at the Hero. "Two against one. Basic rules of democracy say we win."

"But we live in a monarchy—"Link began.

"Don't drag logic into this!"

It was a joy to hear Link's laughter again, and Sheik gave himself and Navi some kudos. It was the first time the green-clad chosen one had laughed on a night like this in weeks.

In the end, the Hero's mirth faded away, but his anger and sadness did not return. Instead, they were replaced by determination. Navi came flitting out of the tent and perched once more on Link's shoulder, shining brilliantly.

"I can't tell you everything," Link said. "I don't want to risk changing things...and certain details are best left unsaid." He took a deep breath. And another. And another. It was a difficult tale to start, Sheik supposed. "Navi...when we went to the Water Temple the first time, things...didn't turn out too well."

Sheik listened intently, happy that he had somehow convinced the greatest secret keeper in Hyrule to _finally_ open up, even if it was just for a little bit. The satisfaction did not last long. Names were not mentioned, not were the grisly details elaborated upon. It was enough to hear the way Link's voice hesitated and cracked, the way his eyes grew moist, the way his hands shook, to know and _feel_ how terrible things had truly been.

By the time all three of them were finally asleep in the tent once more, Sheik did not feel any wiser about his other self's fate, nor that of anyone else he knew.

But he understood, now. He understood why Link could not sleep. He understood why he needed to keep his secrets. He understood how much _pain_ the Hero of Time had experienced.

And he vowed to do his best to stop it from happening again.

* * *

The next night, Sheik awoke as Link attempted to climb out from beneath their mound of blankets and sneak into the night. His breaths were shaky, and the occasional sob could not be ignored.

A gradually brightening glow from within Link's cap beside them announced that Navi had awoken as well.

Before their talk, Sheik would have let him go, let him vent his frustration and sadness alone.

But that was before.

Now, he reached up and wrapped his arm around Link's waist, pulling him back down onto the bedroll and quickly pulling the blanket back over him. Link tried to resist, but his sleep-deprived and emotionally upset state left little fight in him. Sheik wrapped himself around the Hero, encircling him from behind and kissing his shoulder.

"Shhh, it's all right," he whispered. "It was just a nightmare."

Navi emerged from the cap, quickly dimming her glow so as to not blind the other two. "Nightmares can't hurt you," she whispered as well, settling down on the pillow next to Link's head, stroking his hair.

Link shook in Sheik's embrace, which only made him hug him tighter. "Stay. You don't have to speak, but we're not letting you go through this alone."

For a moment, it seemed like Link was about to begin struggling again, but in the end the tension began to disappear, and the Hero let his façade slip.

In the larger picture, it would probably seem like a small step. To Sheik, however, it was a giant leap in his understanding of the Hero for whom he'd fallen, and how he could help. If that meant staying awake at night and ensuring that Link did not have to suffer through his memories alone, even until the morning hours, then...

...so be it.

* * *

**Whoever said it's easy to be a time travelling hero?**

**This one obviously takes place in the new timeline, where Link struggles with his memories of his friends and loved ones dying in various awful ways. He may have gotten Sheik, Zelda, and Navi back, but that doesn't wipe the slate clean, does it? He still remembers their deaths keenly, and how they felt, and that's pretty difficult to forget. Hopefully, he will be able to come to terms with it all, at least.**


	4. News

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**News**

* * *

He read the message again and again. For each time, the words seemed to make less sense, and his grip on the back of the chair tightened until his knuckles turned white. At some point, his vision went blurry and his eyes unfocused until all he saw was the white of the paper on which the message was written. His lips moved silently, repeating the words several times over, but even then his mind refused to accept the words.

They'd heard of the troubles in Hyrule. Everyone had. One of the most powerful kingdoms in the world doesn't simply descend into civil war with no one noticing. At first, they hadn't been worried. After all, Princess Zelda was no stranger to war or being surrounded by enemies, foreign or domestic. She'd have the rebellion quelled in weeks, or months at the most.

But the enemy was difficult to deal with, it seemed, and the war seemed to stretch on with no end in sight.

They weren't worried, though. The very thought that something awry would happen to their teacher was...well, unthinkable. She'd lived through the most awful situations and battles. Anyone idiotic enough to attack her would quickly find themselves having the most inconvenient day and, possibly, their last.

And then the news of the attack on Hyrule Castle had arrived, along with the sacking of the city itself. The whole world had been shocked by that, he imagined. There were so many rumours, so many claims. The princess was dead. The Hero of Time had disappeared. The Earl of Hyrule's body, along with that of an unknown female warrior, had been paraded through the streets and desecrated in the most heinous ways.

He'd paid the rumours no heed, and had ensured the others _knew_ it was all hearsay, that they shouldn't believe them. They had no choice. Anything else was inconceivable.

Hatra sank into the chair, letting the letter fall to the carpeted floor. He'd gone deaf—all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. His stomach had plummeted, and he was glad he'd yet to break his fast since he'd probably vomit it all up.

It couldn't be. It couldn't.

It had taken a long time for the official death toll to be tallied, for the bodies to be identified. The sacking of Hyrule Castle had happened two months ago, and only _now_ did they finally receive confirmation.

Doctor Kaura was dead. Her body, almost burned beyond recognition, had been found along with those of Princess Zelda herself and Prince Leonthal of the Storm Plains in the ruins of Hyrule Castle. Sheik, the Earl, was dead too. Link was nowhere to be found. The Storm Plains were gearing up for war with Hyrule to avenge their fallen prince.

Hatra swallowed, his throat dry.

What now? How would the others react?

He heard commotion upstairs and the familiar sounds of their little household waking up. He'd let them sleep a little longer today, both because of a difficult and violent patient they'd have to deal with the night before, and because it was their official day off. Usually, the sounds made him smile, but all he could imagine now was their faces upon receiving the news.

He glanced down at the offending letter, and picked it up. Folding it gently, he opened his desk drawer and deposited it inside. He should be the one to tell them, not some random military officer.

Someone was coming downstairs. Light footsteps. Approaching the office door.

"Good morning," Tinn said, not even bothering to knock on the door, still rubbing his tired eyes.

"Morning," Hatra replied, trying to fake a smile at the young man.

At twenty-three, Tinn was handsome. Whenever he went out on the streets of Clock Town, more than a few heads turned to take him in. Hatra strongly suspected he could get anyone he wanted simply by turning those green eyes of his on them and unleashing the boyish grin. There was no grin now, though, as he studied Hatra close.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Hatra replied. "What makes you think there's something wrong?"

"'Cause you've got that horribly fake smile that looks like it's been plastered onto your face going. It's horrible, and you're a bad liar."

Damn.

"Close the door," Hatra said, gesturing towards the door to the office he shared with Kaura..._had _shared... "A messenger came by with a letter about an hour ago."

"What did it say?"

Tinn's voice was innocent enough, but Hatra could _see_ the younger man steeling himself. Of course Hatra hadn't been the only one who'd speculated about what had happened to Kaura.

"She's dead." There was no point in trying to soften the blow—it'd be like using a wool blanket as armour. "Killed during the rebellion in Hyrule. They've only compiled the lists of the dead now."

Tinn nodded slowly, his face completely neutral. His stance spoke of the internal distress he was feeling, however. "And...and the others?" he asked.

"They've identified the bodies of the princess and Lord Sheik as well," Hatra continued, feeling like the words were spilling out of his mouth, his tongue tripping over the syllables like a drunkard trying to ascend a staircase. "The...the mob had not been...kind to them. The Hero of Time has disappeared. No one knows where."

"Goddesses," Tinn groaned, slumping against the wall. "It...I...do they know how...?"

"No," Hatra said, shaking his head and thanking the fates for not having received that information. His teacher was gone—he didn't need to know if she'd suffered. If she had...then everything would be... "The room they were found in had caught fire, apparently. Took them a long time to find out who they were..."

"I never thought _she_...or _they_, for that matter, would ever...you know?" Tinn gestured helplessly. He'd probably thought the day, with its shining sun and brilliantly blue sky—the first in months—would be fantastic...

"They never struck me as the type who could be killed, no," Hatra said, remembering with shame what he'd done to Sheik in the dungeons of Ganondorf's fortress. Even then he'd pegged Sheik as someone who'd either live forever or perish taking all his enemies with him. The thought of his body being dragged through the streets and...and... "But I've been proven wrong, it seems..."

Upstairs, more footsteps could be heard as the remaining two occupants woke up and prepared for the day. Tinn looked up, frowning. "How do we tell them?"

"Leave Tao to me," Hatra said immediately. "I'll take him along to the mayor."

"All right," Tinn said with a nod, agreeing that he would share the news with Kira. "Why are you going to the mayor?"

"We won't be the only ones to receive the news," Hatra explained. "We may have enough physicians, but when he finds out that we don't have a _senior_ physician properly manage the clinic, he'll have us closed down."

"Isn't that you, now?" Tinn asked.

"I'm hardly senior. Sometimes I get the feeling I'm barely a physician at all." He tried to block out the thrill he got out of having to cause a little pain to make someone better. He was better than that, he told himself. But the urge...

"You've made up for all that," Tinn said firmly, knowing exactly what Hatra was thinking. "You've saved more lives than you've taken. And I think you should be senior physician."

"We'll see what the mayor has to say about that—maybe he'll agree to it on a temporary basis until he can find someone to replace her—"

"_No one_ can replace her," Tinn said sharply.

"No, you're absolutely right...but I'm not worthy to even _try_ to fill her position. Not yet." He stood up as the new footsteps began to descend the stairs, Kira's cheerful voice filling the halls. "Don't tell her until we're out of the house."

"Got it."

Hatra went to the door, pausing to put a hand on Tinn's shoulder. For what reason, he didn't know. He never really knew how to handle issues like these...he'd always left it up to one of the others to deal with the families of patients who died.

Kira and Tao had gone to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, and the sounds of their culinary endeavours filled the air as Hatra approached them.

"Good morning," he said, avoiding the fake smile that everyone seemed to be able to see through, opting for the more neutral mask he adopted whenever he had to deal with people in general.

"Morning," Kira said cheerfully, while Tao smiled—his way of returning the sentiment.

"We'll have to postpone breakfast a bit, I'm afraid," Hatra said, noticing that Tinn had followed him into the kitchen. "Tao, I need you to come with me to the mayor's office. There's some business we need to go over and if I don't have a friendly face there I think I'll go insane."

"What kind of business?" Kira asked, with Tao nodding in agreement with her.

"Just some rent issues. There were a lot of numbers and I got confused, will need them thoroughly explained to me by a clerk."

"I can come with you," she offered. "Tao wanted to make pancakes—"

"We can have those later," Hatra said hastily. "The mayor has a soft spot for Tao, and I need to manipulate him to give us more favourable terms."

Kira raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "All right—just don't take too long. I'm starving."

"Me too," Tinn said, sounding none-too-enthusiastic.

"Someone's grumpy today," Kira muttered. Tao gave Tinn a strange look, but approached Hatra all the same.

"Let's go."

* * *

There was a strong chill in the air, a sign of the coming winter, but the people of Clock Town were enjoying the weather for all it was worth. After months of grey skies and misery, they were being annoyingly cheerful. Hatra resented them slightly for it, because all the cheeriness meant they'd be drinking, and that meant a lot of emergency cases either in the middle of the night or the day after. That is, if the clinic was even going to be open at that point—it all depended on the mayor and whether or not he trusted Hatra to keep the place running with some semblance of the efficiency Kaura had. He doubted he could, but if the clinic closed they'd lose everything.

The rebuilt Clock Town, the original which had been destroyed in a meteor impact over a decade earlier, had been arranged in and around the crater. Their clinic was on one side of the rim, while the mayor's home and office was on the directly opposite side. The quickest way would be to descend into the crater and head through the market district there and climb the other side, but Hatra deliberately chose the long way around the crater itself, both to put off what he knew would be an exhausting and frustrating meeting with the mayor and to find an appropriate way to break the news to Tao.

The silent youth noticed the long detour and frowned, but made no attempts to steer Hatra towards the right way. He'd probably picked up on the strange atmosphere back home and was analysing what it could mean...or probably already had a strong suspicion. He was smart like that. He refused to speak, but he could communicate in a multitude of other ways. It was quite unnerving how much meaning he could put into a simple look, but Hatra supposed that was how he managed to worm his way into the hearts of the people of Clock Town.

After several false starts, Hatra gave up on finding an appropriate time and place, and simply dragged Tao into a quiet side street. Leaning against the wall of an apartment building, he sighed heavily.

"I suppose you've already guessed what's happened," he said.

Tao nodded slowly.

"Got the news this morning, before you woke up. She's dead. So is the princess, and...and our other friends." He caught himself, and cleared his throat. "Well...only Sheik has been confirmed to be as such...no one's seen Link since the castle was sacked..."

He'd probably anticipated it, but Tao was no less struck by the news of their friends' deaths. His eyes widened, and he shook his head, as if not believing him.

"I'm sorry, but it's true...there's an official letter back home, if you want to check for yourself." He cleared his throat again. It kept closing up, and his voice refused to remain steady. Damn it, he had to remain composed! If the other three were devastated, then at least _he_ had to keep it together, or the clinic definitely _would _be closed. "I...I don't know what to say. I know how much Sheik and Link meant to you and...and...Tao, where are you going?"

He'd expected the boy to be angry, or break down, or...do anything other than turn around and walk away, his face a stony mask. Hatra made a half-hearted attempt to follow him, but Tao was fast, and quickly disappeared among the crowds in the streets of Clock Town.

Taking a moment to recompose himself, Hatra nodded. Tao could take care of himself...he'd come back when he wanted to. He wasn't sure exactly what Tao had considered the Hero of Time and the last Sheikah, but there was clearly something much deeper than simple friendship there...family, perhaps? Brothers? Ersatz fathers?

Cursing the rebels in his head, he turned his attention back on the task at hand and began to head for the mayor's office, hoping that he'd be able to persuade the old man not to take away their home...

* * *

"I hope you understand," the mayor said with a kind smile on his face. "It is not that we doubt your ability, but the patients would not feel safe with such a young and inexperienced doctor in charge of the clinic."

Hatra sighed. "I understand perfectly, sir," he said. "And I appreciate the need for someone with much more experience than I to deal with the clinic's administration. However, if we close our doors until we find someone appropriate for the job, we will have no way to pay the rent, or feed ourselves. The hospital won't have anything to do with us because of...well..."

Kaura was widely respected as a physician, but she tended to get on the bad side of the bigger hospital's staff, both because of her mannerism and...well, she _could_ come off as condescending when dealing with inferior physicians, of which there were many at the hospital. He supposed they feared that her students would be much the same, though you'd have to look far and wide for a pair of sweeter future physicians than Tinn and Kira. Tao...well, everyone loved _him_ no matter what, for some reason. It both irked and impressed Hatra in equal amounts.

"Hm, yes," the mayor agreed. "She could be...acerbic at times."

"And while the clinic remains closed, the hospital will suffer an increased amount of patients, and as I understand it they are already at full capacity. Sir, the city itself will suffer—and I do not mean for that to sound pompous and self-important—it is simply fact."

The old man watched Hatra for a few moments, as if waiting for something.

"You know of my past," Hatra said finally. "And while I have many sins to make up for, I am genuinely trying to make the right decisions here. I have friends..." He paused. "No, I have a _family_ to watch out for. Please, don't make _them_ suffer for _my_ transgressions. Appoint a doctor from the hospital to head the clinic—they won't like working with us, but as long as it stays open..."

The mayor's smile changed, turning a bit more...genuine?

"Doctor Kaura was an asset to this town, even if other physicians found her difficult—or, more correctly, _terrifying_—to work with," he said, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully. "If she's been teaching the rest of you, I would definitely like to keep you around. Good doctors will always be needed, after all." He hummed. "Very well, boy, you've convinced me. I look with horror upon your past deeds, but I believe your intent to make up for them. You have three months to find a new senior physician for the clinic...until then, _you_ will be in charge, with regular visits and inspections from my clerks and a qualified doctor from the hospital to ensure that things are running as they should. _One_ step out of line, and we shut you down. Is that understood?"

Hatra smiled, almost laughing with relief. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"You're all good kids," the mayor said. "I would hate for Doctor Kaura's efforts to be in vain."

"They won't be, I swear it."

"Good, good. The first inspection will be a week from now. I expect everything to be ship-shape."

"They will."

* * *

There was no cheer in the house when he returned. Tinn and Kira were sitting around the kitchen table, holding each other closely. They'd both been crying, Hatra could see. They greeted him with tired looks, and he gave them a sad smile in return.

"The clinic will stay open," he said. "I'll be in charge until we've found a new senior."

"That's...good," Tinn said.

"Have you seen Tao?"

"He came home an hour ago," Kira said, her voice tired and scratchy. "Went to his room and hasn't come out yet."

"I see..." Rubbing his eyes, Hatra felt the exhaustion of the day creeping closer and closer. He'd be liable to pass out soon if he didn't keep himself busy. "Right, I suppose I'll have to start searching for a physician who doesn't resent the idea of working with Kaura's students. I'll be in the study."

* * *

He'd written three letters, each for a physician he'd known Kaura to respect. None of them lived in Termina, and he only had old correspondence between them and Kaura to discover their residences. He could only hope that the letters would reach their intended recipients. It was almost evening, now, and the pit in his stomach had gradually begun to ache, both from sorrow and the mounting hunger.

He'd never gotten that breakfast, had he?

At some point he heard Tao's door open upstairs and the slow footsteps descending the staircase. They disappeared into the kitchen. There was no cheerful banter to be heard, only complete and utter silence. He missed annoyed and angry voice telling him he'd done something wrong yet again and to stand aside so _she_ could show him the right way...and the laughter that usually ensued from the others.

His stomach growled. He really needed something to eat.

To his surprise, the sweet smell of Tao's pancakes had filled the hall in his absence, and he emerged into the kitchen to the sight of the boy himself at the stove, busy with a heavily delayed breakfast.

That was no surprise, really. Tao had developed something of a habit—when he was upset, he cooked. Hatra hadn't _really_ expected him to do so now, but there he was... Kira and Tinn were watching with interest, but none of the usual enthusiasm.

The saddest part, however, was the cap. The colour had faded with the years, and it showed a lot of wear and tear, but it was still very much the cap that had been bestowed upon him by the Hero of Time himself. It fit him perfectly.

Hatra cleared his throat, and Tao turned around, nodding to acknowledge his presence, and went back to his cooking.

The meal was eaten in silence. None of them knew what to say. The pancakes were delicious, as always. Tao refused to remove the cap.

After cleaning the mess and washing the dishes, they once more gathered around the table. They didn't want to be alone.

"We will be inspected on a regular basis until we have a permanent senior," Hatra said. They had to know, after all. "First one's a week from now. Not much will change—I'll be dealing with the paperwork. Just...keep doing what you do, and we'll be fine."

No one answered.

Hatra swallowed yet another lump that had formed in his throat. "We'll miss her. And them. We always will. But if she knew that we were sitting here, like this, she'd tell us all we're idiots and should be doing something useful with our time."

"She'd be calling us worse than idiots," Kira said, chuckling. "I always learned new swears from her."

"A walking dictionary, that one," Tinn agreed.

Tao nodded.

"The scalpel threats were the worst," Hatra said. "Every time she approached, I feared for my...er..."

"Bollocks?" Kira asked innocently.

Tinn laughed, and a small smile appeared on Tao's lips.

"Even _Sheik_ was afraid of her," Tinn added. "And he wasn't afraid of _anything_. Or so I thought."

The night grew dark as they continued to speak, and the hour late. They didn't care. The next day would bring more of the usual stress and bustle, especially with all the injuries that'd be sure to occur around the town at night. And they would fall back into their routine, though the clinic would feel a lot emptier. The hurt would fade, however...or so Hatra hoped.

But until then, this night was theirs. And they were going to use it to remember their friends.

Scalpels and all.

* * *

**Strange to write characters I haven't worked with for four years...especially with such a time-gap. Basically, I just wanted to see how they would deal with the news of Hyrule's fall in Soul Secrets. Of course Kaura would instil a "Keep calm and carry on"-attitude in them.**


	5. The Return

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**The Return**

* * *

The air was damp and smelled of rot and the vaguely sweet scent of decay. The ancient rock and stone was covered in grime that had built up over the years since it had been abandoned, with no one to maintain its appearance. Water dripped from the ceiling, its source a mystery. In due time, perhaps the tunnel would become home to mighty stalagmites and stalactites...and forgotten by everyone.

Not a sound but his own breathing and footsteps could be heard, occasionally accompanied by the echoing crashes of the delicate water drops hitting the floor. No rats, no bats...not even cobwebs. None of the usual vermin that infested forgotten parts of the world like these. It was as if even _they_ understood that this was a place to avoid, lest they become part of its troubled history.

This was a dead place. And always had been.

And he still knew it like the back of his own hand. Every turn, every door, every flagstone was imprinted on his mind. How long had it been since he had last walked these sacred halls? Many, many years. Too many. And he'd returned far too late.

Was it selfishness? Had that kept him away? Or was it his sense of duty to kith and kin that were still alive? Perhaps it was cowardice that had made wait for so long before finally making the long journey here... He knew certain people would bet on the latter, including himself...but there was also the excuse of having a family to protect, and children to raise. No more, though. He had no more excuses now, and so his weary eyes had turned to the south, and the land he had long since ceased to call home.

There were protocols to follow and traditions to uphold, however, and his return had been delayed significantly by these. He could not return empty-handed. And here, too, there was duty to kith and kin to perform. He was too late to do it correctly, of course, a fact that he would regret to his dying day, but perhaps he could redeem himself with this small gesture. If not, he would understand and accept whatever punishment awaited him on the other side...if, indeed, that was where he would go.

Doubt filled him as he stalked through the corridors, realising that he was truly and utterly alone, with not even the familiar smiles and faces to accompany him on his lonely journey.

Perhaps...perhaps there would not even _be_ an other side for him to go to? Was he doomed to emptiness and nothingness upon drawing his last breath, with only darkness and the absence of thought as his companions? Or was he simply being shunned for having turned his back on them so long ago? So many questions...and no one to answer them.

The flow of air changed, the smell taking on a putrid character. He was getting closer. The dripping became a constant presence now, and the dampness more pronounced. The water had been standing still for far too long, whatever mechanisms it powered having ground to a halt and rusted. He could not see the high ceiling, but even then he knew that this chamber, like the others, was truly and utterly devoid of life.

Had it always been like this? He remembered laughing and chasing through these corridors before, and had always felt the utter _vibrancy _around him.

But that was gone now, and had apparently been so for a long time. Decades, perhaps even longer.

He adjusted the wrapped bundle at his side, ensuring that the contents had not been lost during his travels. The weight was still comfortably heavy, the distinct feeling of two separate objects reported by the rips of his fingers. He did not know what he would do if he lost these...not after having spent so long tracking them down and retrieving them.

One more death on his conscience...but it would not weigh heavily upon it. They had been trophies, kept on a mantelpiece...and he'd lost his temper. It rarely happened, but it had now...and it had been messy. He'd left a leather pouch filled with coin, but what comfort it would provide he did not know...if any at all.

Sooner than he wanted, he reached his destination. The rows upon rows of anonymous doors, each one leading to a room filled with stories of tragedy, greatness, loss, love, happiness, death...so many stories, and no one to hear them. As it should be. The stories died with those who had lived them...and with him.

He knew which door he wanted, and which he did not. The door he did not want was the first he reached, and he gave it little more than a glance before continuing on his way. He would forever love and respect them, but he had never known them, and encroaching upon their place of rest was not his right. Not anymore.

The correct door, he found all too soon afterwards, and it was with a great deal of trepidation that he opened it and stepped through the stone portal. The murals and artefacts had lone since faded and rusted and decayed, leaving little to tell the tales of the two occupants of the stone slabs...but he did not need them. He knew their lives.

His legs shaking, he approached the raised slabs and lowered himself to his knees, bowing deeply with the bundle at his side. His voice hitched as he prepared to speak. Already his chest was aching with loss that time could not and would not heal...as well as guilt. He should have been there. He had told himself that for years now, and would until his heart stopped beating.

He drew a breath as he straightened his back, staring at the occupants of the slabs, tears already gathering his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice echoing throughout the halls. "I...I failed to protect him. I abandoned him twice over, and was not there with him when he passed. I should have returned, when I received the news, but...I...I told myself I could not, that I had a bigger responsibility to those who were still alive. It was the right thing to do, but I never forgave myself for not returning and...taking him here. Now that I _have_ come back, there was nothing left."

He reached for the bundle and began to unwrap it. Withdrawing the blades, he inspected them in their scabbards. One short, one long. Custom handles.

"Except these. I will not beg your forgiveness, for I do not deserve it. I am simply...doing what little I can."

He stood up, his legs still shaking with the strain, the years catching up with him much faster than he'd have liked, and climbed the few steps to the slabs.

"They were his," he continued to say. "Perhaps this way, you will find each other in the great beyond."

Gently, he set a blade down on each of the slabs, careful not to jostle the remains upon them.

"You're home now," he whispered. Then he went back to his place by the bundle, crossed his legs on the floor and closed his eyes. Letting his breath even out, he allowed his being to spread out, to take in the feel of this place...and what it had once been.

Time passed. How much, he did not know. He was lost in his thoughts and memories, going through them again and again, trying to conjure up as perfect an image of _him_ as he could, in the hopes that it would strengthen the calling and beckoning of this place, serving as a beacon.

It was only when he began to shiver with cold that he realised it was time to let go. By then, he also heard the footsteps. Slow, and respectful. Two sets. No voices, only breathing. The warm light of a torch growing brighter in the hall. Two shapes appearing in the doorway.

"There you are. You were gone for a long time. We were worried." His wife said, her face set in a frown.

"Father, are you well?" his daughter asked, her eyes continually darting around to take in this new and unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting place.

He smiled and stood to face them. "I am fine," he assured them, wondering about the absent member of their little expedition. "Where is Sheik?"

"Outside," his daughter said. "He felt uncomfortable coming in here."

"I see..."

"He will see it some other time, I'm sure," his wife was quick to assure him. "He was simply overwhelmed by your stories, dear."

"Are these...?" his daughter asked, looking reverently at the two slabs and the remains upon them. She had probably never expected to see this place, much less look upon her own ancestors, distant though they may be.

He nodded. "Yes, Thalia. These are his parents. I felt it best to leave him here."

"He would appreciate being reunited with them."

"Perhaps, but he would never forgive me for not being there in the first place."

"That's quite enough of that," his wife said with a sharp tone. "You know he would understand. It happened too fast, and we did not receive news until it was too late. He had no expectations of you in regard to this."

He chuckled bitterly. "I know, E, but still..."

Elenwe shook her head. "You've been in here for too long, all alone with your thoughts. It's time to return to the world of the living."

He nodded. "I suppose so..." He glanced back to the slabs, and bowed deeply once more. He heard his wife and daughter join him in his gesture, and smiled. Next time, he would ensure his son joined him as well.

Picturing _his_ face once more with his mind's eye, he could not help but feel that, despite the delay and his conflicted feelings about the appropriateness, he had accomplished something with his actions...and his guilt did not feel quite as heavy any longer.

It took me twenty years, but you are finally home. Goodbye, cousin. Rest in peace.

* * *

**Sorry about the lack of updates lately, but I've been **_**attempting**_** to focus properly on school...and, strangely enough, it's been working somewhat, heh. I will try to keep the updates coming, but with NaNoWriMo coming up (depending on whether or not the story I've been working on isn't just rubbish), along with exams, that might be a very staggered schedule. Anyways, I just wanted to do this piece on Kafei's eventual return to Hyrule and how he'd handle Sheik's long-delayed interment in the Shadow Temple...even though there was nothing left of him to bury.**

**And yes, Kafei had another child and named him after his cousin as a tribute.**

**- Andy**


	6. Lumina, Part 1

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Lumina, Part 1**

* * *

He panted as he shoved the window open and practically hurled himself through it, landing with a painful grunt on the flagstones below, barely pausing to listen for the sounds of the intruders before making a beeline for the gates. With luck, the orders for his arrest had not yet been announced and he'd have some small chance of escaping. Behind him, he heard the frail door to his office give way and the rustling of the armoured men entering the room.

"Where is he?!" someone shouted.

"The window!"

"He's heading for the gate!"

Hearing this, he sped up and hobbled across the gravel of the castle road, trying to ignore the painful twinge in his ankle and appear, for all intents and purposes, calm and collected, all the while hoping that he'd make it through the gate before one of the imbeciles got the word out.

The idiots at the gate stiffened and nodded with respect to him, mouths opening to greet him.

"Apologies, I am in a rush!" he announced and passed right through, leaving a pair of young guards in utter bewilderment.

"Sir, your escort—"one began.

"No need!"

He cursed himself as he emerged onto the main street and immediately took a left, heading for the closest alley. That was stupid—he should have said something more calculated than _that_. It had looked and sounded suspicious.

He just needed to get out of sight, and everything would be all right...for now, at least.

How could everything have gone so wrong? One minute his plans had all been proceeding smoothly, the next everything had turned into complete and utter disaster. It was all thanks to _them_, he was willing to bet. It certainly fit his old enemies' modus operandi—they never did any of the dirty work themselves, always leaving it to their little minions.

But it was also his own fault, he knew. He'd grown complacent. Lazy. He'd assumed everything was in the bag, that every piece on the board had been carefully positioned for maximum effect and that all he had to do was give it a little push... But no. All of a sudden, security had increased everywhere, and he'd found it much more difficult to move about unnoticed and orchestrate unfortunate accidents and hold his usual meetings. He'd been forced to communicate with the others by bloody carrier pigeons, and that was simply...undignified.

And worst of all, he'd assumed it was the King suddenly growing paranoid in the wake of the war in Hyrule, which had ended far earlier than any outsiders had assumed. Perhaps Robar thought Hyrule would proceed to flex their muscles? He'd certainly hoped that was all it was...but then the visit had been announced, and he'd _known_ that they were involved.

And then he'd been blinded by his own arrogance. Why on earth would their petty little plans topple his own? He'd been arranging this for _years_ now. Surely it'd take more than a meddling princess to ruin everything?

He ducked into the alley by the hotel directly opposite the castle gates and took a moment to lean against the wall, panting. This body really wasn't suited for strenuous activities. That would have to change.

As the bones in his face began to rearrange themselves and his skin turned smoother, he took stock of what he knew. Agon was safe, currently off in the field doing training exercises. Marlotta was at her estate, doing goddesses knew what with her free time. The assassins were...somewhere, hopefully staying out of trouble. All he'd lost so far was his position at the castle and direct access to the King and crown prince. He still had his army, and the position could easily be regained once Councillor Rehm had disappeared and a new face was needed to fill the spot. He smiled wryly. His _dear_ sisters had not anticipated the means of his punishment also being the means of his deviousness.

Rehm groaned, feeling his nose shrink and re-set itself, his eyes burning slightly as the colour changed. Oh, the pain only fuelled his anger, and all he could do in the meantime was imagine going after his enemies. The captain would be first, no doubt. He'd gotten close in the last few days, hadn't he, with his _independent investigation_, as he'd called it, into the mysterious affairs. Perhaps he'd even decided to take matters into his own hands; perhaps the princess of Hyrule had nothing to do with his attempted arrest just now.

No, of course she had. Captain Vortan was a clever man, but he would not be as bold as to order the arrest of the King's most trusted advisor without explicit orders. He was still bound by his sense of duty and loyalty...

...either way, he was the first on Rehm's list. Then the princess, and her entourage...

Straightening up, he felt his cheekbone slide back into place, completing his new face. It probably wasn't perfect, but he didn't care. Right now he simply needed to be unrecognisable. He could worry about aesthetics later. He took a few deep breaths and headed for the other end of the alley. From the gates he could hear voices shouting and feet on the cobblestones, indicating that the whole garrison was now probably looking for him.

Fools. They'd never find Councillor Rehm anywhere, because he'd just ceased to exist.

He navigated his way through the labyrinthine passages until he was fairly certain he was well away from the search parties, finally relaxing when he spotted one of the markets from behind a corner. He'd simply melt into the crowds there. Perfect hiding spot. He approached the mouth of the alley...and suddenly felt the hairs on his neck rise.

Someone was watching him.

A pickpocket? Robber? Murderer, even? No, none of them would be out during the day.

Turning around, he spotted a young man dressed in a green tunic about twenty paces behind him. His pose was rigid, his face set in a grim look, arms crossed. Rehm felt like he should recognise the man...or boy, more like...but the face was not familiar at all. But his sword was. All Rehm could see was the hilt, sticking up behind the boy's left shoulder, but that was all he needed to see.

The Hero of Time. The Goddesses' chosen one. Of _course_ he'd be involved in this...but in what way? Surely he didn't know? He _couldn't_ know!

Grimacing, Rehm considered his next move. He'd have more than enough time to reach the market crowds before the Hero caught up with him, and in that time he could rearrange his face once more and perhaps throw off his robe. That'd be all he'd need to _completely_ disappear. Yes, that would do.

Just as he made to turn around, something hit the cobbles behind him, causing Rehm to whirl around.

Crouching at the mouth of the alley was another young man, dressed in tight-fitting, dark blue clothes, his face obscured by a high-collared, white tabard with a red eye emblazoned upon the chest. Daggers and knives of every shape and size could be seen in various holsters on his arms and legs, as well as a long, curved sword at his back. If the symbol on his chest hadn't given his identity away, the red eyes peering at him from underneath blonde bangs certainly would.

A Sheikah.

This was all the princess' doing, then. It was nice to have confirmation.

"Going somewhere?" the Sheikah asked, rising to stand properly, his hand resting on the handle of his sword. "I would not advise it. My friend here is quite angry with you." He gestured towards the Hero of Time, who had begun to approach them slowly, also ready to draw his weapon.

"W-Who are you?" Rehm said, affecting his voice until he sounded as scared and pathetic as he imagined any normal person would sound in this situation. "P-Please, I-I don't have a-any m-m-money, but—"

"Spare us the act, Rehm, we know it's you," the Hero said, practically snarling. "Or should I call you Feror? Because that's your real name, right?"

Feror paused. How? _How_?! How could they possibly know his true identity? _No one_ knew that, apart from...

"I see Rauru has finally decided to come clean," Feror said, shaking his head. "A shame it took him a thousand years to do so, but better late than never, right? You're already too late, anyway..."

The Sheikah gave the Hero a questioning glance, to which the Hero simply shook his head.

"He's lying," he said. "We're several months too early. He hasn't gotten his plan underway yet."

"And what plan would that be?" Feror asked innocently, trying to think of a way to escape the situation. True, he had not expected this...but they were only children. Boys. What hope could they have of standing up to him, who had walked the earth for so long?

...and then he remembered that, as old and wise as he was, he still had the weak and frail body of a mortal, and what skills he had in fighting were limited to magic, of which he had none. He'd always meant to learn to wield a sword, but there had always been something to distract him...

Damn complacency! He truly _had_ gotten lazy.

"Come off it, Feror," the Hero continued, his voice filled with loathing. "I'm the Hero of Time. What do you think that means? I've seen it all. What you are planning, how you are going to do it, what you intend to do once you've regained your powers... I've stopped you once already, and this time it will be even easier."

Feror felt his confidence being chipped away with every word, and now that the Hero was standing so close he could feel the boy's rage-fuelled body heat coming off him in waves...he realised he'd lost. Agon was too far away to help, as was Marlotta. The sounds of the approaching guards were echoing throughout the alley as well.

It made sense—every move of his had been countered, every change anticipated. That spoke of someone who knew his strategies and way of thinking. If the Hero had indeed seen the future and defeated him once already...then what hope did he have? He'd been disarmed...at least temporarily.

Frowning, he raised his hands in surrender. The good thing about being immortal was that one's patience increased significantly. It didn't matter if he was temporarily out of the game. All he'd have to do is wait. There'd be a trial, surely? That would give Agon more than enough time to manoeuvre his forces back to the capital and lay siege to it, demanding Feror's release. With luck, no one would have thought of sealing off Prison's Peak any further just yet...

"Very well," he said, trying to sound defeated. "You've outwitted me."

The Royal Guards, with Rial Vortan at their head, rounded the corner and spotted them. "Surround him!" he ordered his men.

"Shackle him and keep under guard at all times," the Hero said, sounding oddly authoritative for such a young man. "Remember, he can change his face. Don't be fooled."

"Believe me, we won't," Captain Vortan said, his face grim. "I never trusted him...it's good to see that my senses didn't fail me."

The Hero raised an eyebrow, looking as if there was something he wished to say, but he seemed to bite his cheek to stop himself doing so. Perhaps things had not gone so well for Rial Vortan in the future the Hero had seen. Pity it wasn't this one.

The Hero nodded and went to join his Sheikah companion. They stood very close to each other as they watched Feror being led away.

Curious, Feror thought.

* * *

Link waited until Rial and his men had reached a sufficient distance before letting himself relax. Sheik had anticipated it and stood ready to steady his lover, who'd lost so much sleep over planning this action that it was a wonder he could even stand at this point.

"We did it," Sheik noted. "Feror won't be in any position to harm anyone ever again."

"Provided Robar takes our warning seriously," Link said with a grunt, leaning appreciatively into Sheik. "He was very unreasonable."

"The very fact that he authorised Rehm's arrest should speak volumes of how seriously he takes you," Sheik said. "Remember, this was a man who has been around for so long that no one can remember him having been young. He was the man Robar trusted the most. I, too, would be unreasonable if someone suggested one of the few people I trusted were a traitor." He shook his head. "Either way, he's been arrested now. You can relax."

"Rial almost screwed it up. He made too much of a spectacle of it." There was a hint of disappointment in Link's voice, as if he expected better of the young captain.

"He hasn't been hardened yet," Sheik reminded him. "It took losing all his men and being put in charge of an army before he became the man you knew him to be."

Link blinked. "Yeah...you're right...gods, I keep making things worse, don't I? Now he won't have the chance to truly prove himself by winning the war, and—"

Sheik put his hand over Link's mouth. "Shh, that's quite enough of that. You just prevented a devastating civil war and saved countless lives. That's a complete and utter victory. Be happy with that."

The Hero frowned. "You're being awfully pragmatic..."

"It's my job, isn't it? Now come, we have a report to give. There's still a lot of work to do."

Link groaned. "I try to save the world, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Being a Hero is a thankless job. Though, I suppose I could show you my _personal_ appreciation later..."

"...I'll hold you to that."

* * *

**I like to think that Feror was quite miffed to have his plans nipped in the bud just like that, seemingly out of nowhere. He'll have a long time to stew about it, too!**

**- Andy**


	7. Lumina, Part 2

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Lumina, Part 2**

* * *

King Robar of Lumina found himself studying the girl on the other side of the council table intently. She was a bit on the scrawny side, perhaps, and far from the so-called 'ideal princess' that his advisors kept mentioning whenever they discussed a possible marriage for his son, Victor. After all, weren't princesses simply there to look pretty? That's what he'd been told as a boy, anyway. Perhaps the advisors were afraid of the foreigner outshining the prince?

Robar hadn't cared. His own wife, gods rest her soul, had been anything but ideal according to his own father's advisors, but he'd married her anyway.

And, really, looking at Princess Zelda of Hyrule only made him feel intrigued. He saw so much of his old friend in the girl's eyes, and the way she held herself. Brimming with confidence, and refusing to back down without having had her say.

She and Victor would make a good match. Perhaps her ferocity would influence Victor to become a little more...assertive.

Ah, but those were thoughts and ideas for a much later date. Robar focused on the situation at hand, which was anything but pleasant. He'd expected a somewhat joyful visit—it had been ages since Lumina and Hyrule had last interacted—but all he received was a terse warning that not only was Robar's own life in danger, but so was his entire kingdom.

Robar hadn't gotten to where he was today without taking due heed of any threats towards his life, so he'd be more than prepared to counter anything that came his way...except _that_. When told that the biggest threat to his kingdom since the days of The Enlightened One was the old and most trusted advisor and, if he dared to call him that, closest friend, Councillor Rehm, he'd been furious. How dare she make such an accusation?

But those eyes...they had left no room for argument. So he'd begrudgingly ordered Rehm's apprehension and temporary confinement to his chambers. He didn't like caving in to Zelda's demands, but he assumed that the girl was still paranoid and suspicious after seven long years of war. What harm could it to do play along, if just for a little while. Rehm would simply laugh it off and confirm that he was, indeed, as innocent as Robar knew.

...but then the old fool done a runner. It's one thing act outraged about a wrongful arrest, but running away before the charges had even been mentioned? _That_ couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

Robar didn't believe in coincidences. Never had. Never would.

Rehm's guilt in _something_ was definitely confirmed when they brought him in...with a new face. Magic was dangerous, and knowing that Rehm could use it for such a...a disgusting act was unnerving. And if he could change faces...did that mean that this wasn't the first time? And how long had the man been around, in that case? Since Robar's father's days, at the very least, perhaps even longer.

All of this was why he wasn't yelling at the princess sitting across the table from him, but he was also angry. Angry at Rehm for having lied, angry at the princess for ruining the peaceful status quo that had finally settled across Lumina, angry at himself for not having _seen_ it all coming...

"So," he said, straightening up in his chair to relieve his sore back. "I have done as you asked, princess. A man I considered a dear friend and trusted advisor has been locked up in the dungeons...though I suppose the 'dear friend' and 'trusted' parts can now be considered void, at least on his account. Apparently, he's a user of _magic_, and can change faces at will. I assume you already knew this because of your insistence that I apprehend him. Now, I would like a thorough explanation as to _how_ you knew it...and _why_."

He'd used his most regal and authoritative voice, knowing it usually had an unnerving effect on those below his status...but to his surprise (and secret delight), the princess didn't even flinch. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and steepled her fingers, looking every bit like her father (gods rest his soul) whenever they entered negotiations.

"I would first like to apologise for having arrived so suddenly, King Robar," Zelda said, her words calm and measured. "The abruptness of our visit, coupled with my immediate insistence on having your councillor arrested must have ruffled quite a few feathers, and I can assure it was not my intention to offer you or your family insult. However, time has been of the essence, and due to the extraordinary threats to your person, I thought it best to skip the pleasantries until later." She frowned. "Also, I would like to ask you to keep your anti-magic stance to yourself, as it is indeed magic that has enabled me to offer you this warning in the first place."

"Very well," Robar said with a nod, remembering that while her father had not been a magic user himself, his kingdom was a haven for those with that so-called gift. "Though I would ask you to please understand _why_ my stance is as it is."

"I am very familiar with your kingdom's history, and most definitely understand your suspicion, but I ask that you leave it aside for a moment, and simply listen to what I have to say without bias or prejudice."

"I will attempt to do so."

It felt like a stilted conversation, and it surely was. He'd never met this girl, and to have too much familiarity could be dangerous for diplomatic relations.

"Then I will begin my explanation," Zelda said, taking a breath. "As familiar as I am with Lumina's history, I am unsure of how familiar you are with ours..."

"I know quite a bit—your father and I were friends, and learned much from each other."

"Then I do not need to tell you the legend of the Goddesses' chosen one and the prophesised Hero of Time."

"I have heard that story many a time."

"It is not a story," she said, her voice turning to stone. "The Hero of Time is as real as you and I. In fact, you have already shaken his hand and spoken to him."

Robar furrowed his brow, trying to remember the many members of Zelda's retinue he had met earlier that day. The ones who stuck out had been the female bodyguard, Tira...something, the Sheikah with his strange, red eyes, and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed young man in green. Link, was it? Surely this great Hero of Time hadn't been any of _them_?

"I do not understand..." he began.

"The one in green," Zelda helped.

"Surely not?" Robar asked, surprised. "He did not look much like a legendary Hero to me. He's barely a man."

"That is where the 'of Time' part of his title comes in," Zelda said, raising her eyebrow delicately. "It is quite literal. Link has seen far more years than his age would suggest. In fact, he has seen the _future_. Not only seen, in fact. He has been _part_ of it, and has re-written it! Right now, you are probably thinking how far-fetched this all sounds, but I can prove it."

Robar chuckled. "Oh? And how do you intend to do that?"

She rose from her chair and walked around the council table, her boots clicking against the stone floor. Suddenly, Robar was glad she'd insisted on having the meeting alone, with not even their bodyguards as witnesses.

"I can show you the things Link saw," she said as she came to stand beside his chair, looking down at him. "I can show you his memories of the Luminan civil war."

"The civil war ended years ago," Robar said, narrowing his eyes.

"Not _that_ civil war," Zelda said, glaring at him. "I am speaking of the civil war that will rip your entire kingdom apart and reduce it to nothing but warring city states. The civil war that starts...with your death."

Robar paused. If this was all a lie or a joke, then it was a carefully orchestrated and elaborate one. "If you intend to kill me—"

"I don't, but Rehm did."

"How will you show me?"

"Like this."

With no warning, she put the palms of her hands against his temples. For but a moment, pain on an unimaginable scale exploded inside his head as _something_ was forced inside. His vision went black, and he was suddenly sure that _Zelda_ was the true assassin...until the visions and images flashed before him.

Some sort of festival. A great ship floating in the sky..._The Chimera_, which was currently under construction? Robar himself holding a speech, suddenly choking...blood flowing from every orifice. Two armies, both bearing the colours and banners of Lumina clashing on a snowy plain. A city...Ironhill...burning in the far distance. General Drena Riveth (how long had it been?) fighting on an airship. A view of Prison's Peak and the fortress guarding it...fighting in the courtyards and throughout the fortress itself...not a Silver Guard anywhere to be seen. Luminan against Luminan, dying and screaming. The new King (Victor) lying bleeding on the floor, his face pale and cradled by Captain Rial Vortan, the captain swearing his revenge against Rehm. Rehm himself, doing..._something_ to Countess Marlotta, seemingly draining her of life against an all-too-familiar door. The Enlightened One! Rehm was unsealing them! Rehm stepping through the portal, transforming into a golden-skinned being. _**I **_**am**_** the enlightened one!**_The world shaking and breaking apart. A group of people entering an unreal place where water flows...Rehm, now called Feror, attacking them...stabbed from behind by a shadowy being...losing his head to Captain Vortan...

Then it was all gone, and Robar found himself panting and clutching the armrests of his chair, sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Wh...what was that?!" he demanded, voice shaking.

"What Link saw and experienced," Zelda said. She too had gone slightly pale and had to steady herself against the council table. "These events would begin in approximately five months, and your death would be the catalyst. Rehm would take control of Victor and begin a reign of terror. His ultimate goal was to unseal the Enlightened One's tomb at Prison's Peak...for you see, Rehm _is_ the Enlightened One...and the Enlightened One was truly a god named Feror. It is a lot to take in and digest, but I can assure you that the things you just saw are true and did happen...which is why we are here now, to prevent it."

"My son...he died," Robar said, shivering slightly. "How?"

"Rehm," Zelda said. "Shot him in the back with a miniature cannon. The entire rebellion against Rehm started with Captain Rial Vortan and General Drena Riveth taking up arms against him, intending to restore Victor to his throne...but it all became a much bigger game. One that almost ended with the destruction of the world."

"This all...it all seems too..." It couldn't be true. None of it. But had it felt so _real_!

"Much?" Zelda asked, smiling kindly at him. "I understand. That is how I felt when Link finally decided to let us see the things he saw...and still there is much he keeps from us. Painful things. Awful things."

"How far has...has he gone?"

"He would not say," Zelda said, shaking her head. "But I estimate close to a decade from now, based on the information he _did_ share. And it was a very eventful decade...which ended in a disaster so devastating that he was forced to return to this point in time." She closed her eyes, as if deep in thought. "That decision must have been so difficult..."

Robar took a minute to compose himself. He wondered what his father would say to all this. He'd claim it was all a lie, of course. The very fact that the princess had to use magic to show him the memories would be what condemned her story...but Robar had promised not to show prejudice or bias, so he took the images for what he saw...and Rehm's reaction upon being arrested...

...it made sense. To his horror, it fit. He could not be sure about everything that happened in this...Sacred Realm, was it? That was what Zelda's father had called it. But everything before? It had seemed real...

"If I...accept that what you showed me is true, and that Rehm indeed is this...this god, Feror, was it? If everything is true...what should I do with him? Execute him?"

"No," Zelda said hurriedly. "Feror is the _last_ god. If his life ends, then our world's protection dies with him. We will become a target for the horrors that lie out there..." She shivered, apparently remembering something she had chosen not to show him. "No, he must be contained. For all eternity, if need be."

"How?"

"The Sages—the Goddesses' acting hands—are working on a solution," Zelda told him. "Until then, I suggest you keep him in your deepest dungeon."

"I have put him in our most secure cell," he assured her. "Supervision twenty-four hours a day."

"I would suggest bricking it up, as well."

He paused. "Surely that is a bit much? The man must have his meals—"

"He is immortal, remember? Hunger and thirst will not bother him. The only thing that can truly kill him is a blade. Everything else is but a mere trifle to him."

Robar shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shivering from the cold sweat. "I am not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of bricking a prisoner up. It opens up a dangerous precedent from our kingdom's ancient past, when the kings were a bit more...vindictive."

"I can assure you that no measure is too extreme in this case," Zelda insisted. "Rehm is too dangerous to be left to his own devices, but he must also be protected. We intend to seal him up for good in the Sacred Realm once we have all the details figured out, but until then we dare not move him."

"So...I just keep him here until you return?"

"I don't intend to leave until the threat has been neutralised. Unless, of course, the King desires me to leave?"

There was a challenge in that question. Had it been anyone but her, Robar would've been inclined to meet it, but the sincerity in her words and eyes, coupled with the shock from before, left him with no desire to fight her. "How long do you think your...Sages...will need before they can seal him away?"

"Not long, I imagine," she said, smiling a bit wider now that she knew her presence would be tolerated until further notice. "A few weeks at the most."

"Then my hospitality is yours," he replied, wondering if he was going to be regretting this decision in the immediate future...if he wasn't already.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Zelda said, dipping her head slightly. "This will take quite a bit of weight off the Hero of Time's shoulders."

"Is there anything _else_ I can do to assist?" Robar asked, sounding a bit more sarcastic than he'd intended. Zelda took it with grace, and shook her head.

"That will be all for now, I think. Now, if you will please excuse me, I have a pair of advisors to inform...if they will even give me the time of day."

Robar remained in his seat long after the princess had gone, mulling over the things he'd learned and seen that day. It was...a lot. It would take his mind quite some time to parse and truly understand it all...but he felt confident that he had made the right decision. Or had he? Gods, there were so many things he'd rather face than the metaphysical conundrums of this world...which had suddenly grown many sizes beyond what he'd thought it was.

Just my luck, he thought. Solve one problem and several more show up to take its place. Old friend, your daughter takes more after you than I ever expected her to...and now I need a damn drink.

* * *

**Nothing like getting images of the apocalypse beamed directly into your head. Robar is in it way over his head, heh...**

**- Andy**


	8. Lumina, Part 3

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Lumina, Part 3**

* * *

Left. Right. Thrust. Spin. Block. Thrust. Push. Repeat. Left. Right. Thrust...

Captain Rial Vortan of the Luminan Royal Guard blinked away the stinging sweat in his eyes, keeping his focus on the training dummy ahead of him. It was covered in notches and deep cuts from its rough treatment by Rial and his men, but it still stood defiantly with its sword and shield raised, a symbol of everything Rial was against, its face utterly blank and devoid of emotion...though at the moment, he imagined Rehm's lined, ancient visage in its place.

Bastard had had them all fooled for years. Rial wasn't sure if everything he'd heard from the Hyrulian visitors was true. The bits with the ancient gods and such were a bit out there...but once they'd brought in a young man that for some inexplicable reason was speaking with Rehm's voice and inflection, and his eyes had gazed upon Rial with the same intense dislike the councillor had always offered him...

It was all a bit over his head, and Rial didn't like it. True, he'd suspected for some time that the old man wasn't exactly what he claimed to be (and the anonymous letter he'd received several months earlier had only further fuelled his suspicions), and his investigation had turned up some curious leads, although nothing conclusive... And then the Princess of Hyrule herself had shown up along with the young man known as the Hero of Time and another young man known as Sheik, who'd promptly taken over every intelligence-gathering operation in the city.

Less than a day had passed, and then King Robar had ordered the detainment of Rehm, pending further investigation into his activities. Whatever the princess had told the king, it had been effective.

And then Rial had been left out of the further talks afterwards, and while he certainly understood that this business was far above his station and pay grade, he would have appreciated some further information about the man who'd supposedly threatened the lives of the King and Crown Prince he was supposed to protect! How the hell was he supposed to do that without knowing everything he needed to?!

He growled and charged ahead, slamming his shield into the dummy's chest and, in a fit of anger, brought his sword around in a wide arc. The wooden neck offered no resistance, and the head thunked loudly against the stone floor. The rest of the dummy followed suit, the balance offset by the shield bash. Rial wished the remains on the floor were Rehm's.

"You certainly showed that rapscallion what for."

He whirled around, stance relaxing immediately upon spotting the one who'd snuck up on him. "My prince," he said, hurriedly trying to salute and nearly forgetting that he was holding a sword. Idiot, he thought to himself as he sheathed his blade and dropped his shield to the floor and finally managing the dumb salute. As the cold air of the training room quickly began to freeze the sweat on his bare upper body, he prayed his blush wasn't visible. "My apologies, I did not hear you come in."

Prince Victor shook his head, smiling. "I _was_ sneaking. It's a good thing you didn't notice me."

Rial nodded. Why had he chosen to train without a shirt, at the very least? "You have taken an interest in stealth?"

"Have you noticed how quickly and quietly Lord Sheik moves? You can barely hear him. And he seems to be everywhere at once, sometimes."

Rial had indeed noticed how skilled the young man was at moving about. "He certainly lives up to what I've heard about his kind. I hope this doesn't mean you intend to drop the sword."

Victor shook his head vigorously, a gesture that made Rial's chest feel warm. "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "I just wanted to see if I could sneak up on _you_. I mean, even if I started now and practiced all day, every day, I would never be as good as him. Nor do I wish to be." He walked up to the sword rack by the door, letting his hand trail along the handles until he found the one he was looking for. "In fact, why don't we spar a little right now?"

It was late in the evening, and Rial could see that the prince was exhausted. His shoulders were high, which meant he was stressed, as well. Presumably the meetings with the princess and the councils had not been pleasant.

"Long day?" Rial asked, shivering slightly.

"I would rather not talk about it," Victor replied. "It's...the things I've heard..." He trailed off as he began to unbutton his uniform jacket, freeing himself of the constricting clothing.

Rial didn't ask any further. It was all classified, probably. He occupied himself with clearing away the remains of the training dummy, trying not to look too obviously at the slender prince as he began to stretch in preparation for the impromptu lesson. Victor clearly needed to release some pent-up tension. Rial really wished he had a shirt on.

"Defend yourself!" the prince declared and charged at him with his sword raised. Rial blocked the stroke with his shield. It was a good blow, and Rial felt it all the way up to his shoulder. Planting his foot on the floor, he pushed Victor backwards and aimed a basic series of attacks that the prince easily parried, countering with a thrust that would have skewered Rial had he not turned it aside with his own blade.

Rial felt his own tension begin to melt away as he and Victor began to trade blows in earnest. He kept it relatively simple in order not to overwhelm Victor, but the prince was showing a lot of initiative, trying new moves and swings. He even got within Rial's defences at one point, prompting the guard captain to hastily withdraw, almost knocking Victor out in the process. The prince barely seemed to notice, continuing his vicious assault.

What's going on? Rial wondered. What has gotten you so angry?

They traded blows for another few minutes before separating, circling each other slowly.

"You're getting better," Rial observed. "Been practicing on your own?"

"Just got a few tips from the Hero of Time," Victor said, looking a bit embarrassed. "He seemed very concerned with my ability to fight."

"Why?"

Victor looked uncomfortable, clearly considering his words carefully. "He wouldn't say," he finally muttered.

"Hm," Rial grunted. More secrets. He didn't like it. Especially not when Victor was in on it. It made him feel...useless. Was he really that unimportant in the grand scheme of things? Was his protection even needed at this point? He paused...and that gave Victor the opening he needed. Suddenly, there was a sword in the immediate area around his face. The pommel slammed into his jaw and sent him stumbling backwards and landing on his behind. His mouth tasted of blood, and he was surprised when he felt all his teeth were intact...surely a blow like that would have knocked out a couple?

"Oh, gods...Rial, I'm sorry, I..." Victor looked horrified, eyes flitting from his sword to Rial and back to his sword. "I didn't realise...I thought you would block, and I—"

Rial held up a hand. "It's all right, my prince," he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "I got distracted, and that definitely earned me one across the mouth. I'm actually impressed you used the pommel instead of the blade—that takes restraint. Help me up, yeah?"

Victor hesitantly took Rial's hand and pulled him up. The blow had left Rial slightly woozy, however, and he shifted forwards, suddenly finding himself standing very close to Victor...so close that simply leaning down an inch or two would have their lips connect... To his horror, Rial's body began to move on its own, and it was only with the utmost willpower that he managed to tear himself away and take a step back, his cheeks ablaze with the heat of a thousand suns. He cleared his throat and turned away, pretending to check his sword for damage. A discreet look back. Victor had turned away, also suddenly very interested in the state of his blade.

He's disgusted, Rial thought. A prince and a bodyguard...a _male_ bodyguard...absolutely disgusting. Damn you, Vortan, you promised yourself you wouldn't do this anymore!

Someone cleared their voice, a sound that echoed around the chamber. Rial froze. That hadn't been Victor's voice, and it certainly wasn't his.

"The...King summons you, my prince," a guard said by the door. She looked very uncomfortable.

"Very well," Victor said, quickly and clumsily attempting to both put his uniform jacket back on and placing his practice sword back in its rack. It did not end well. Rial's ears rang with the sound of the metal clattering against the stone. "I...er...I should hurry, shouldn't I?" With a face the colour of a ripe tomato, the prince of Lumina beat a hasty retreat from the training chamber, accompanied by the guard, his sword left forgotten on the floor. Rial couldn't bear to face it.

He's infuriated, Rial thought. I haven't seen his face that red since someone insulted his mother, gods rest her soul. He'll probably release me from his service now...

"He's a bit clumsy, isn't he?"

Taking a deep breath, Rial slowly turned around to face yet another newcomer who'd snuck up on him. What was this, give Rial Vortan a Heart Attack-day?

In the doorway stood a young, blonde man with astonishingly blue eyes, clad in green. Behind his back, Rial could see the handle of a no-doubt finely crafted sword. The Hero of Time.

"How long have you been standing there?" Rial asked sourly, not really in the mind to banter with one of the foreigners who'd caused so much hubbub as of late.

"I came with the guard," the Hero said, stepping inside the chamber and picking up Victor's sword. He tested its balance and swung it around a couple of times, nodding with satisfaction. "Good sword," he said before putting it back in the rack. "His footwork has to get better. He doesn't have your frame, which means he needs to rely more on speed than brute force."

"Shouldn't you be attending the meeting with him?" Rial asked, unable to keep his tone all that civil. Everything seemed to be piling on, and now even his training of Victor was going to be criticised?

"It's all diplomatic talk now," the Hero said, shrugging. "I'm not a very critical component to those. I let Sheik be my representative."

"I see..."

The Hero looked amused, and Rial felt another spike of anger. He turned away and began to redress, dearly wishing he'd put a shirt on before sparring with Victor.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" the Hero asked while Rial's back was turned.

"I don't know you," Rial said, keeping his voice level. "But your arrival has caused a lot of trouble. Not that I'm not grateful that you've apparently averted a major disaster for both Lumina and the World, mind you, but..."

"I understand," the Hero said. "You feel stepped on. Protecting them is _your_ job, and you're being kept out of the loop. I'd be upset too. At least you got my letter and began to investigate on your own—otherwise you wouldn't even have been told what little you know now."

Rial looked at him, narrowing his eyes. "The letter was from you?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"Why would I send it to you?"

"Yeah."

Again the Hero did his little shrug, a gesture that was annoying Rial more and more every time he saw it. "The things you've been told...my title...you know what it all means, right?"

Rial answered with a shrug of his own. Pettiness of the worst kind. "Time travel, etcetera," he replied.

"Hard to believe, huh?"

"Very."

"I know something that's even harder for you to believe, though."

"Yeah? What's that?"

The Hero grinned. "That we were friends."

Rial snorted. "Pull the other one, it's got bells on."

"Like I said, hard to believe," the Hero said. "Then again, fighting a war together does tend to bring people closer." He settled himself on a chest that contained several sets of chainmail shirts, looking thoughtful. "How much have you been told?"

"Only that Rehm caused a disaster, and something about gods." Rial pulled on his surcoat and fastened his belt properly around it.

"So they didn't say you killed one?"

Rial paused. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's a very long story that I'm probably not supposed to tell you, but..." the Hero frowned for a moment. "But I've lost a lot of friends...and I'd rather keep the ones I can. Or make them all over again, I guess."

Surely this one didn't actually expect Rial to believe that he'd travelled through time? It was utterly ridiculous. If someone had that power, they could rule the world! And yet this Hero of Time was happily serving the princess of Hyrule...or so it seemed. Perhaps he was simply biding his time (haha!) until he could figure out how to usurp her?

"You're thinking about how I would exploit time travelling, aren't you?" the Hero asked, giving Rial a sly look. "I'm happy to tell you it doesn't work that way. I can't pick and choose where and when I end up."

Rial sighed. "Why are you even talking to me?" He didn't want to discuss metaphysics, especially not with the deceptively innocent-looking Hero.

"Like I said, we were friends. And I'd like us to be again."

Ridiculous. "All right," Rial said. "If we were friends, you'd surely know my mother's name."

"You never told me," the Hero replied smoothly. "But your father was sickly, as I recall."

"Everyone knows that."

"Your aunt is General Drena Riveth, currently stationed at Æsir Fortress in the north, falsely accused of treason."

Rial paused. "What are you talking about, 'falsely accused'? She was convicted. The only reason she's not dead is because of her history with the King. Had it been anyone else, she'd have been executed on the spot for what she did."

"And what was it she did?" the Hero asked.

"She attacked...Rehm." He felt his bluster leaving his form with every word. Was it true? _Had_ she been falsely accused, after finding out Rehm's plans, perhaps? If that was true, then...all those letters...he hadn't even read them. "Even so," he said, "she _did_ attack him..." He squared his shoulders. "And this is also information anyone could find out after a bit of digging. Hell, King Robar might even have told you."

The Hero chuckled. "You always were a deeply sceptical man. Fine, I know one fact about you that will leave no trace of doubt that I know you a lot better than you think."

"And that is?"

"The prince," the Hero simply said.

Rial glared. "What about him?"

"You like him."

"Of course I like him," Rial said, almost laughing at the absurdity of the statement. "I wouldn't be guarding him otherwise."

The Hero shook his head. "No, no, you misunderstand. You _like_ him."

The realisation struck Rial like a brick. How could...had he...surely he hadn't... "I...I don't know what you're talking about," he said, turning away from the Hero. Then he remembered Victor's reaction to their closeness earlier on, and everything got a million times worse. Shame filled him. "I don't like implications about his majesty—"

"I'm not implying anything about the prince," the Hero said. "I'm simply stating what I know about _you_. And if you think I judge you for it...well, I don't. And for what it's worth, I sincerely hope that things work out for you two this time around."

Rial heard the footsteps as the Hero prepared to leave the chamber. "Wait," he said. "What do you mean, 'this time around'. What happened in the future?"

"Oh, so now you believe me?" the Hero said, throwing an amused look his way.

"Let's just say that I'm prepared to _humour_ the possibility of what you say being true."

"That's not very encouraging," the Hero said, but he turned back to face Rial nonetheless. "I have an idea." He reached for the sword on his back and drew it. Even in the semi-darkness of the training chamber, the blade itself seemed to possess a slight glow to it. Beautifully crafted, Rial had to admit that it was definitely a sword a Hero with a capital H would carry... "Let's spar," the Hero said. "If you win, you walk away without having to listen to me."

"And if I lose?"

"You listen," the Hero said. "And become my friend."

Fair enough, Rial thought. The kid didn't have all that much muscle on him...and what good was speed if you couldn't get out of your opponent's reach? "All right," he said, picking up his shield and drawing his sword. "Don't feel bad when I win, though."

"Now there's the confidence I've been missing," the Hero said with a grin, releasing his own shield from his back. "My name is Link, by the way."

"Rial."

"I have an addition to my victory demands, by the way."

"Yeah?"

"If I win, you have to kiss Victor. On the lips."

Whether it was a joke or not, it only served to make Rial attack. With a bellow, he hurled himself at Link, who easily parried the blow, his eyes alight with excitement.

It would be hours before the sounds of swords clashing would cease that night.

* * *

**Link doesn't like keeping people in the dark, even when he's been told to do so...**


	9. Lumina, Part 4

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Lumina, Part 4**

* * *

How had it come to this? Rial groaned inwardly and tried to resist the temptation to slam his head against the nearest brick wall...or, possibly, the heads of every eligible noble lady who kept sidling up to Victor in an attempt to win his heart and, naturally, the future throne of Lumina. There seemed to be an endless supply of them, and Rial was starting to wonder whether they actually came into being the _natural_ way or if they simply sprang up from holes in the ground, dressed in their best and ready to lay low the nearest royalty they could find.

He nearly chuckled at the mental image, but managed to catch himself. The wry grin was impossible to cover up, however, and to his horror Victor chose that exact moment to turn around to ask him something. The prince arched an eyebrow, and said, "What's so funny?"

Rial coughed and shook his head. "Nothing, just something that popped into my head." He grinned again as he said the word 'popped', which brought back the image of the sprouting noble ladies.

"Must be _terribly_ amusing, seeing as you can't stop grinning in the face of your prince," Victor said drily.

Shit, I can't tell him, Rial thought. He has to _marry_ one of these at some point. Looking desperately around the ballroom, he spotted King Robar and Princess Zelda by the large fireplace, looking intently at some old book or other. "I wonder what has your father and the princess so focused," he said, nodding towards them.

Victor clearly knew Rial was trying to distract him, but didn't press the issue further, joining his bodyguard in studying his father and Zelda. "Oh, it's one of his collections of correspondence," Victor said, recognising the tome. "Presumably filled with old letters from _her_ father. They were good friends, as I understand."

The tension from the week before had not yet left the prince's shoulders, Rial noted while happily sighing in relief at not having to reveal his mean-spirited joke on Victor's future wife's expense. It simply would not do. Clearly whatever he, his father, and the Princess Zelda were discussing in their secret meetings still weighed heavily upon his shoulders. Rial didn't much like it. The Hero of Time had not revealed much information of note, though what little he'd been told still had Rial reeling. Like Riveth not being a traitor after all. He'd attempted to write her a letter ever since, but the years of silence had left him quite unsure of how he'd approach the subject matter. He'd give it another attempt in the morning. As for...the other stuff...well, he'd still blush at the thought of it.

"Most likely, Father is attempting to get her to take an interest in _me_," Victor continued, failing to notice the sheer _speed_ at which Rial's head turned to look at him. Not even the neck crack seemed to faze him. A frown was on the prince's mouth, his arms crossing in a disapproving gesture. "I hope she doesn't."

Rial rubbed at the sore spot in his neck, feeling confused. "You would not want to marry her?" he asked, his chest clenching ever so slightly.

Victor shook his head. "She is a beautiful woman...intelligent...a strong ruler...everything a prince would want, yes? She is a bit...fierce, though. And, though it might just be my imagination, she seems to have eyes for another. I would much rather be her friend, like our fathers were."

"Eyes for another..." Rial repeated, hating himself slightly for the elation he felt at Victor's words. What did it matter if he didn't marry _her_, when there were so many others who'd instantly take Zelda's place on the list of prospective matches? It hurt to think about, so he decided to go for a new tactic: gossip. "Who do you think she has hers set on, then?"

"I am not sure," Victor admitted, shrugging slightly. "Lord Sheik, perhaps? The two seem quite close, and he _is_ a noble. The last of the Sheikah, and such. Would be a worthwhile method to continue his people's legacy, would it not?"

Rial wasn't certain if he wanted to pop _that_ particular bubble in Victor's mind, since he knew for a fact that Lord Sheik would only be interested in a certain green-clad warrior...who seemed to be absent from the party, now that he thought about it. Lord Sheik himself was chatting with Councillor Ise and her assistant...Jeryd-something-or-other in a corner, but Link was nowhere to be seen. Rial found himself scanning the room until he spotted those impossibly blue eyes...staring right back at him. The Hero seemed to be spending his time in another corner, keeping a watchful eye on the party itself. Something else he'd seen in the future, perhaps, and trying to avert? The Hero raised an eyebrow, looked deliberately towards Victor, at Rial again, and pointed at the large grandfather clock by the fireplace. He mouthed some words.

_Tick-tock._

_Tick-tock._

_Tick-tock._

Time was running out. Rial wanted to throw the Hero off the balcony, the cheating bastard. The Hero's wolfish grin confirmed he knew exactly what Rial was thinking.

_You made a bet, Mr. Bodyguard. Now's the time to pay up._

It had been a losing fight from the start. Rial still had _some_ doubts as to how well the Hero knew him _personally_ in the future that had been, but he had clearly seen how Rial fought, and countered every single move as if Rial was a fresh-faced recruit holding a sword for the first time. He'd felt pathetic...but also impressed. At least the Hero hadn't lied about _that_.

So here he was, having been given a very short timeframe in which he was to...deliver the goods, so to speak. And the pressure had been _insane_. The mere idea of it...the consequences... It all made Rial feel like he was going to die from stress. But...surely the Hero wouldn't hound him so much about it unless he _knew_ that Victor wouldn't react badly...right? Or was it all a game? The Hero had travelled through time..._once_...or so he claimed...for all Rial knew, he'd done it multiple times and was growing bored of trying to fix everything and just wanted to see what would happen if he tipped the ladder over rather than steady it... It was tempting to speak to Lord Sheik and ask what Link's motivations were, but what were the guarantees that the Sheikah would be any wiser to the Hero's intentions? Perhaps he, too, was simply a pawn in Link's great game...a game he could have played any number of times before growing bored.

He felt the nausea and headache coming on even now. Thinking about it made him feel ill. There were too many factors to account for, not to mention the very fact that he didn't know a damn thing about the Hero apart from the obvious...was he genuine, or simply a trickster...or possibly malicious? The smiles seemed genuine enough, but so had Rehm's, at times...

"What's wrong?"

Rial looked left, and slightly down, at Victor, who seemed worried. "Hm?" Rial said.

"You've gone all pale. Are you feeling sick?" the prince said, his attention now completely on him.

"Er...the air is a bit...thick, isn't it?" Rial managed to rattle out. "I just need some fresh air. Will you excuse me, my prince?"

"I'll come with you—I need some space, myself," Victor announced, immediately pushing Rial towards the balcony doors. Rial couldn't see him, but he was _certain_ the grin on the Hero's face had widened to the point of splitting it.

Compared with the blisteringly hot and heavy air inside the ballroom, the balcony might as well have been at the top of Prison's Peak for how cold and fresh it felt to step outside on it. The silence that reigned out there was a big plus as well—Rial could actually hear himself think in a tone that wasn't screaming like a maniac now.

"Ah, that's better," Victor said after Rial closed the door behind them, shutting the din inside. "I'm always amazed at the amount of _noise_ the nobles are able to produce whenever they're here." He ducked down slightly as a roving band of hopeful nobles' daughters walked by the doors, stalking the young prince like he was prey...which, in a way, he was. Luckily, they did not spot him, and Rial made sure to stand so his broad back obscured Victor from view. "Thank you," the prince said, looking up at him with a smile.

"It's what I'm here for," Rial replied, thrilled at having put that smile on the prince's lips. "And always will be."

He'd accidentally lowered his voice as he spoke as a response to the lack of noise out here, and the words came out a lot huskier than he'd anticipated...and the effect on Victor seemed immediate. A deep blush, the sort that Rial had, up until now, always interpreted as anger or annoyance at his bodyguard becoming too familiar, covered his cheeks. He half-expected the prince to tell him to back off...but all Victor did was look away, fists clenched by his side. It wasn't anger. It was worry. But worry about _what_? Was the Hero actually right about this...?

Rial felt his own cheeks beginning to heat up. It was a good thing no one could see them out here. It would have made a strange sight, to be sure. Robar would have gone spare, he imagined. Hopefully, Zelda was keeping him busy.

The Hero's words echoed in his head.

_Time's running out. Either you kiss him on your own initiative, or I'll contrive a situation where you can't avoid it. Which do you prefer?_

And the time travelling little shit was _watching_, too! Sure, all heroes in the stories were a bit voyeuristic, but that was always in conjunction with bathing princesses and such...not two men from wildly different social classes who truly had no business even _wanting_ to do what...what Rial really wanted to do right now. When had Victor become so...for the lack of a better word, _cute_?

He was looking up at Rial again now, the blush still staining his cheeks, but now he was full on smiling. His lips looked soft...

"Is something the matter?" Victor asked, his voice quiet, hands still at his sides.

I'm going to regret this, Rial thought. But...a bet is a bet. And a good excuse, if things go south.

Deciding that he wanted to rid himself of the Hero's mocking gaze and settle this..._thing_ once and for all, he forewent the words, which would have been awkwardly mumbled, and the probing gestures, which would surely be misunderstood, and leaned down, capturing Victor's lips with his own.

They _were_ soft...

And then he straightened his back, disengaging as quickly as he could, watching Victor intently.

Momentary star-struck, the crown prince of Lumina's eyes widened, and his blush deepened considerably. Any moment now, Rial expected him to explode with...something, call him an inappropriate rogue...or scoundrel...or something like it, and run away. It had been a mistake all along, and the Hero of Time had been an utterly merciless arsehole, forcing Rial to do this out of some sick and twisted desire to see people suffer, and—

Victor's hands were suddenly clenching his uniform jacket's front, pulling Rial back down. Their lips connected once more, and, having instigated the kiss, the prince was quite a bit more aggressive than Rial had been. There was even tongue...though quite a bit of teeth clacking together as well. Victor had never kissed anyone before.

It was messy, awful, and _wonderful_. Everything seemed to disappear, the balcony, the castle, the party and the guests, the world itself, until all that was were the two of them, locked lip against lip, arms slipping around each other for fear of accidentally letting go would bring it all back...

It was a bad idea, kissing there. Anyone could come out of those doors at any time and see the worst scandal to hit Lumina in decades...

...and Rial didn't _care_.

* * *

Sheik found his lover leaning his back against the door leading out to the castle's balcony, arms crossed and looking strangely satisfied. "There you are," Sheik said. "Having fun?"

Link nodded his head towards the glass. Sheik looked out.

"You've been meddling again," the Sheikah said flatly, joining Link by the door, further preventing anyone from accidentally walking in on the pair on the balcony.

"I'm just making sure that something that should have happened, happens," Link said, sounding innocent. "Just like I have with everything else."

"Hmph, this is going to cause a scandal if someone sees it, though," Sheik said. "Who knows what the consequences will be?"

"I've no idea," the Hero of Time. "And I love it."

"Right," Sheik replied drily. He spotted someone in the crowd. "I've met Jeryd," he said. "Seems a decent sort. Clearly an assassin, though, now that I know it beforehand."

"You didn't kiss him, did you?" Link said, narrowing his eyes at him.

"No," Sheik said, aiming a sly wink at him. "Once is more than enough."

"That's not funny!"

Sheik's chuckles proved the Hero's words wrong.

* * *

**And there we have it. Rial and Victor finally stop being idiots!**


	10. Lumina, Part 5

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Lumina, Part 5**

* * *

The weather was getting colder as the season grew late, and stepping out into the night was refreshing, although it also sent a deep shiver down his spine. Sheik tightened his cowl into a makeshift scarf and adjusted his cloak so it covered his arms, trying to insulate himself as much as possible. Goddesses knew how long he'd be outside, and if he caught a cold because of carelessness he'd never hear the end of it from Link, who was, thankfully, deep in slumber in their room, worn out from another long night of political debate and discussion.

Nodding to the doorman of the hotel, Sheik began to walk, picking a direction at random and heading down the street. Lumina City was gorgeous at night, with its thousands of lit windows and gas-lighted street lamps. He wondered what it looked like during winter, when all was covered in a sheet of pure, white snow. The crunching beneath his feet, the cold bite of the air... Sheik had never been a particularly huge fan of winter in general. He could appreciate the beauty of the first snow and the atmosphere it could create, but after a week or so the cold began to grate on him, along with how the snow would melt a bit, freeze, then melt and freeze again, to create a veritable death trap wherever one would set one's foot.

Link, though...Sheik could easily imagine Link absolutely loving it all, even the pathetic slush that was left behind towards the beginning of spring. An image of the young Link he had once seen in Zelda's garden, frolicking with the other Kokiri and throwing snowballs at each other. Undignified as it was, Sheik had to admit that it was an adorable image... Had the Kokiri ever seen snow? He could easily imagine the Great Deku Tree casting some sort of spell that shielded his little wards from the cold, forever preserving the glorious summers that Link would describe whenever he felt nostalgic.

Until he remembered how he'd never fit in with the Kokiri, that is. He never said it, but Sheik could easily see how much that had hurt him as a child. And for what? The lack of a fairy? Why hadn't the Deku Tree seen fit to partner Link with one the second he'd arrived in the Kokiri Village?

Sheik clenched his jaw and tried to will away the unpleasant thoughts. It was all in the past, and no amount of annoyance or irritation on Link's behalf could change it. What mattered was that Link _had_ eventually received a fairy companion (who was currently asleep inside the green cap, as per usual) and been accepted, for a short time, by the children of the forest...well, except for that _one_ little brat... None of them knew that Link had grown up, however. Not even upon visiting his old home had they recognised his older self. Perhaps it was for the best, as Link claimed, but still...

Reaching a crossroads, Sheik thought of an old Sheikah rhyme to help him choose where to go, and continued on his way. The new path took him past the same market that Rehm-Feror had attempted to lose them in upon his arrest—all quiet and empty at this time of night, half an hour past one.

He'd listened to every word Link had told him, about the future. There were many...private details, the likes of which Link could not possibly have known unless that future's version of Sheik had chosen to tell him...and tonight, he was going to get one of those things confirmed.

The first time had been at the party where Link had sneakily managed to get the crown prince and his bodyguard to, as Link put it, go at it like rabbits (presumably instigating one of the biggest royal scandals in all of Lumina's history were they discovered). The moment didn't last for more than a fraction of a fraction of a second, but every warning bell in Sheik's head had gone off immediately. He'd voiced these concerns to Link, who had replied that it was nothing to worry about. Sheik didn't agree.

The second time had been when Sheik was in their hotel room, at the desk and writing a report for Zelda concerning the security issues he had identified with Rehm-Feror's current confinement procedures. He'd been alone in the room, but distinctly felt the sensation of someone watching him. A quick glance towards the rooftops outside the windows had revealed nothing but blue skies and white, fluffy clouds.

This time he did not tell Link. If this was what he thought it was, it was Sheik's business and his alone.

And so he found himself outside at a time of night no decent person would find themselves. Wandering. Waiting.

Of course, it wouldn't happen on the broad, brightly lit main streets, so he began to choose the seedier, darker side streets and alleys, knowing he was most likely inviting more trouble than it all was worth by doing so. He kept a tight hold on his dagger inside his coat pocket; prepared to whip it out the second he saw or heard something he didn't like.

As he expected, it didn't take long. Clearly he'd been watched for quite some time. Perhaps they too had waited for a perfect opportunity. He heard them first. A dull thud somewhere above, scrabbling feet on loose tiles, a hastily drawn breath. Sheik's mouth turned into a thin line as he headed into an even darker alley, pausing in the very middle of it...and waited.

Facing it head-on was usually a suicide tactic, but if his suspicions were correct...

There were two of them. Appearing on the rooftops, they quickly assessed that he was no threat as of yet and expertly climbed down, sliding down drainpipes and finding handholds in the old brickworks. They stopped about ten paces away, their faces completely hidden by their hoods.

The silence reigned for several seconds. Sheik waited. He wasn't the one who was going to start this.

"You've caused quite a bit of trouble for us, kid," one of them said. The voice was female, with an accent that sounded quite familiar. Sheik tried not to grin. He'd been correct, then. "Cost us a job."

"Pardon me if I am not weeping for your money pouches," Sheik replied. "I'd say going broke is preferable to the world ending."

The two hooded stalkers looked briefly at each other, before shrugging. "You'll have to elaborate on that one," said the other one, and there was no mistaking who happened to be under _that_ hood...

"Classified information, I'm afraid," Sheik said, shivering slightly. The temperature was still falling. "Much like your identities...or _were_, at any rate. I think we can dispense with the masks, wouldn't you say? Kafei, Elenwe?"

Elenwe ripped her hood off, eyes shining with anger. "How the _fuck_ do you know our names?!" Link's description had been spot on, right down to the way her eyebrows wrinkled slightly when pissed off. Beautiful, no doubt, and deadly...

Kafei simply sighed and lowered his gently, fixing Sheik with an ambiguous look, apparently uncertain of how to tackle the situation.

Sheik had been steeling himself for this moment, had gone through it a million times in his head. The anger was still there, along with the hurt and betrayal. Not even Link's story had soothed the pain...and now, staring at his cousin's all-too-familiar, yet slightly scarred, face...it all came back. It was a struggle not to fling the dagger straight at those ruby eyes that matched his own. Traitor, his mouth wanted to say. Bastard. But the words would not come, nor would his voice.

"Isn't it obvious?" Kafei said, looking at his partner in crime. "I should have known from the second we heard of the councillor's arrest. The Hero of Time isn't just a figurative title, after all..."

Elenwe's eyes narrowed further. "So...he's seen us here before...?"

"That would be my guess," Kafei said, nodding. "And so he's told my dear cousin what he has seen. I do wonder what it was... World ending, you say?" The purple-haired Sheikah frowned at that. "Clearly there is something we haven't been briefed on...though we never had a chance seeing as our employer was arrested and imprisoned nearly out of the blue before we could have our first proper meeting. I can only assume he, and therefore by proxy, we, had something to do with it?"

"Classified information, again," Sheik said, finally finding his voice. Seeing Kafei again was...strange. He was angry, which was a given, but also...excited? "Suffice to say, our interference with this particular contract of yours should be seen as the princess doing you a favour."

Kafei scowled at the mention of Zelda. "I'll believe that when pigs fly. As if she would ever do me a favour that _wasn't_ helping me into a comfortable position under the headsman's axe."

"You'd never get that far," Sheik said. "I'd take your head myself long before it came to that. Truth be told, as far as I know she doesn't even know you're here...yet."

"And, what, you're going to tell her?" Kafei asked. "I realise you're angry at me, but—"

"Oh, I'm angry," Sheik confirmed, "but this affair concerns _us_, not her."

"So you're just going to kill me, is that it?" Kafei almost managed to sound saddened by that. "Well, I can't say I haven't been dreading this potential day for years..."

"If you want to kill him, you'll have to go through me first!" Elenwe announced, stepping between the two Sheikah, her infamous collapsible crossbow unfolded and pointing straight at Sheik's heart. "K, go!"

"E—"

"No one is killing anyone tonight," Sheik said, rolling his eyes. Of course _that's_ what they'd expect...which, if it hadn't been for a certain Hero, would certainly have been the case. "Trust me, we would never have gotten to this point if that was my intention. I simply wish to...talk."

"Talk?" Kafei said, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow _just so_ in a gesture so painfully familiar...Sheik had almost forgotten who he'd emulated for so long...old habits die hard, he supposed. "And what do we have to talk about? Are you simply trying to keep us occupied while the princess' forces move into position around us?"

Had Kafei always been so suspicious?

Sheik rolled his eyes once more. "The princess doesn't even know where I am at the moment. For all she knows, I'm asleep in my bed at the hotel."

"With the Hero."

This time, Sheik _did_ pause. Kafei chuckled.

"We _have_ been doing our own reconnaissance. We wanted to see why so much trouble had been caused, and by whom. Imagine my surprise seeing _you_ involved in all this."

Elenwe grinned. "Imagine K's expression when I told him I saw you and the Hero of Time smooching and going at it like—"

"That's enough," Sheik said, trying to fight down the blush that was threatening to fill his cheeks. _That_ was a particular detail he'd hoped to keep hidden from people in general. "My personal relationships have nothing to do with this." He hesitated. "And even if they did, I care little for your prejudices—"

"Prejudice?" Elenwe said, looking confused. "Who said I was prejudiced? What I saw was—"

"And that _is indeed enough_," Kafei said loudly, groaning. "I would rather not imagine my cousin doing anything with anyone, thank you very much."

_This is not going according to plan at all,_ Sheik thought. He'd expected a fight. Shouting. Or perhaps no confrontation whatsoever, with both parties deciding to leave each other alone. He'd never be able to go through with Impa's original kill order...not after what he'd learned. But what _he_ knew could have happened and what was happening right now were two very different things. He could never have the future Link described—there were too many variables and particular moments for that...but perhaps _something_ could be salvaged?

"I just need to know, Kafei," he said, fixing his cousin with a pointed look.

"Know what?" Kafei asked, still in a defensive pose. He was probably as uncomfortable with this as Sheik was.

"I need to know if...if it was an accident." That was the truth of it, really. There were only three people in the world he trusted completely. Zelda, Impa, and Link. Even so, hearing the supposed real version of the events from the Hero's mouth somehow made it all ring hollow. There was no...no _real_ catharsis. Not when the party responsible wasn't there. Link had assured him it was true. Only Kafei could confirm it without a doubt.

Kafei practically recoiled at the question, suddenly looking at anything but Sheik. "Why does that matter?" he asked. "What happened, happened. There is no going back and fixing it."

"That is very true," Sheik agreed, nodding. "There is no changing the past...not unless you're the Goddesses' Chosen, which we are most definitely not." _In more than one way...we do not even truly belong here._ "But one of the good things about the past is that you can _choose_ to forget it. You can put it behind you, and move forward. We're all alone now, you and I. With time...perhaps it doesn't have to be so."

Kafei didn't look convinced. Elenwe seemed to have accepted the fact that this was not a conversation that required her presence, and had drawn slightly back, looking between the two with a look of intent concentration. A good friend, Link had described her as.

"That's many years of bottled up regret and anger to deal with," Kafei muttered. "Who says it'll even matter, in the end?"

"I'd much rather try and fail than never know," Sheik said. "It's not going to be an instant process. I'm not _that_ naïve. And perhaps it _is_ stupid and ridiculous. I certainly would have thought so had the idea been revealed to me a year and a half ago. But I've seen too much to let it go now." Sheik crossed his arms and mirrored his cousin's pose perfectly. "But it is completely up to you. I cannot force you into this. And, if it helps at all, I swear to you that refusing to answer will not end in blood. This will be the last you ever see of me, if that is the case. For what it is worth, I hope it's not."

It was about as emotional an appeal he could make in the face of someone who still greatly angered him. It definitely would not be an instant process—for either of them. But he had to try. Both for his own sake, and those ridiculously manipulative, teary eyes and wobbling frown Link would unleash upon him if he said no. There'd be no living with the Hero if this failed. Actually, there'd be no living with the Hero if this _succeeded_, only the agonising sadness would be replaced by infuriating smugness. There was no true winning with someone like Link, who knew just about everything about everyone at this point.

And yet, Sheik loved him.

And Kafei, though that was deep, deep, _deep_ down, obscured by years of anger, betrayal, and duty.

Kafei stared into Sheik's eyes, undoubtedly gauging whether or not Sheik was telling the truth. That was fine. Sheik would have been disappointed if he'd simply accepted it immediately. Survival instinct was something he could accept and respect. After a moment, something seemed to click into place behind his crimson eyes, and he nodded. "You're actually being serious, aren't you?" he asked.

"I have never been more serious in my life, though I'm sure some would disagree," Sheik replied.

"You always were a pain in the ass."

"As were you."

Kafei shrugged. "Older brother mentality, I suppose." His features focused, and his entire form seemed to tighten up. "Yes. What happened that night was an accident. The idea of hurting you...was so abhorrent to me that I nearly remained behind to ensure you survived, but..." He looked down at the ground, ashamed. "There is no excuse. I ran. I meant to invite you to come with me, but you never gave me a chance."

"I believed too much in our duty," Sheik said, nodding as he felt something deflate in his chest. He detected no lie in Kafei's voice, movements or eyes. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to feel upon finally knowing, but...really, not much had changed. The edge of his anger had been removed, certainly, but it wasn't enough to simply wipe the slate clean. "Even if you had managed to extend the offer, I would probably not have accepted it. I don't think our encounter that night could ever have ended differently...but this meeting certainly could."

"You're still angry," Kafei noted. "I can see that."

"It is a process, like I said. But it has begun."

"And how will this...process, move along?" the elder Sheikah said, lowering his guard now that he knew no attacks were incoming.

"That is the bit I am unsure of," Sheik confessed. "In...a different time, we would have had a war to fight in. Now...well, we do not. We will remain here in Lumina for a while yet to ensure the councillor and his co-conspirators are taken care, and then we will return to Hyrule."

"We could meet," Kafei suggested. "Anonymous places. When you return to Hyrule...letters?"

"I believe that will be best until I can persuade Zelda to cancel your warrant," Sheik said, nodding. "And Link would like to meet you again, of course."

"Only proper, I suppose," Kafei said. "I need to assess his worth, after all."

"Elenwe is welcome too."

"Me?" The Gerudo asked. "Why me? I'm not a part of this."

"You are, though, in more ways than you can imagine," Sheik said cryptically.

"Eugh, you two are definitely related," Elenwe grumbled, heading for the mouth of the alley. "I'll be waiting at the hideout, K, this is getting too stupid for me."

"I'll be along shortly," Kafei assured her. He waited until she was gone before he spoke again. "What was her part in all this?" he asked.

"I daresay we wouldn't have survived without her," Sheik said. "Not least of all because of what she was to you. And you to her."

"Partners?"

Sheik fought the desire to slug him for his obliviousness. "Not in the way you think."

"Then what do you mea—oh..."

"There you are."

"But, she's never said—"

"Because of Anju."

The change in Kafei's expression went instantly from confusion to anger. "What could you possible know about—"

"Only what I have been told," Sheik cut him off. "And I will not discuss it with you here. All I am saying is...you should talk to her about it. Perhaps you will learn something." Realising it was getting late, he pulled his cowl back up and fastened it once more. "I need to get back. Link is a light sleeper these days, and will realise I am absent if I stay much longer. Think on what I've said, and choose. Good night, cousin."

He didn't let Kafei get any more words in before leaving the alley beginning his lonesome trudge back to the hotel. His cousin did not follow. Perhaps he'd gone a bit too far with his comment about Anju…or perhaps that was what Kafei needed to hear to finally believe in his sincerity? Either way they both had a lot to think about. Sheik could only hope it would result in what Link's tales of the future had...or at the very least the pacification of his anger towards the older Sheikah.

_It'll be a long road, indeed..._

* * *

**A very different set of circumstances definitely resulted in a much different confrontation between our two favourite Sheikah...hopefully they can patch things up properly. Probably the last of the Lumina stories for now. Hope you enjoyed it!**


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